Cheap Trick
by Clef Longfellow
Summary: Sebastian is a male prostitute. But there's more to him than meets the eye. A random encounter at the local gay bar with an uptight beauty may lead to much more beyond the life he's known. A/U, Slash, Kurtbastian. Warnings inside.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** I started this one on special request for a Kurtbastian fic. You're welcome Your **Bitsness, **lol. I see this one going toward my more natural darker toned stories. This one will be slower going in terms of me posting cause I've got a pretty busy work schedule but I'll do what I can. Reviews keep me going and are greatly loved and appreciated.

**Warnings:** There will likely be: **Character death (major and minor), adult language, sexual content, sexual assault/abuse, slash, substance use, violence** and whatever else I may have missed that could be viewed as **triggery**. I use the word 'likely' because this story is pretty much being made up as we go along so it's not set in stone where I'm going quite yet. Also I don't mean 'major' as in the main protagonists... persay. Lol.

**Disclaimer:** I owns none of it, except the plot, and OC's and yep. And I actually like Applebee's even though Kurt doesn't in my story. Read along and you'll see what I'm talking about.

* * *

This place was a complete shit hole.

Full of shit hole dykes and pathetic tranny drag queens and old biker daddy's with perturbing fetishes, spewing over with thousands of moments of regret. An ensemble of societal derelicts oozing of fucking sad.

He could almost taste it. Their sadness. It flowed into his nostrils like a putrid odor that settled over his tongue and burned down his esophagus. Nearly as searing as the whiskey shot he'd just thrown down.

Hidden behind their artificial smiles, and steadfast whispers of promised cock sucking in some seedy location yet to be determined; behind the drunken two stepping and light hearted chatter creating a bedlam of feigned exuberance... There was staggering self hate, and years of disconnect, broken promises... hell even broken bones from years of abuse from strangers and even some times supposed loved ones.

There was loss and misunderstanding and a huge hole in so many chests that most wouldn't notice if they didn't have that same exact void themselves.

Yeah. A shit hole place, with shit hole people. And he was one of the worst of them...

It was slow most nights. Even Saturdays never automatically deemed a promising venture. But truthfully, this shit stain of a gay institute had become a sort of haven. A place where he could meet potentials, (his more eloquent word for tricks), and get shit faced for a while without being hassled.

"Another one Seb?"

"Nah, Tommy. Just a beer."

"You got it, man."

Tommy was an older guy. A wrinkled fairy with a thick silver mustache who never failed to regale old tales of fighting for 'the cause' as he always referred to it as.

Usually this meant marching down some back water street and getting smacked by flying beer bottles while taking jail breaks for public indecency for scamming on some John just because gays should have the right to just like every other hetero jerk off.

Tommy's biggest accomplishment in his years of being a champion for 'the cause' was establishing this shit bag bar in the early eighties. He never left.

Sebastian personally thought all of that pride marching shit was just a cry for attention. But he was content with having this place as a segway for business whether it stank of stale fairy lust and regret or not.

Who gave a fuck who you fucked? Long as you got something out of it in the end, it was all the same.

As he tipped back his beer, his narrowed eyes scanned over the place for any potentials. He spotted several that he'd already had on some random nights long past; even spotted a few regulars.

It was unfortunately a Wednesday. A night where Scandal's was indeed at its slowest and not even his third shot was making it any less pathetic.

He slowly drained his beer, sloshing the liquid in his mouth before swallowing it down. He was bored of the regular clientele and a few more sips away from just leaving. He could make up his cut by the motel off of Pendleton Avenue before shooting back to the apartment.

Just as he made to stand, he caught sight of a fresh face in his peripheral vision, plunking into a bar stool several seats down. He did his best to tune in, clutching his beer bottle as he awaited the newbie's drink request.

"Hey there," Tommy greeted. "Now you're definitely new. And an absolute beauty to boot. What can I get you darling?"

Even through the dank atmosphere, Sebastian noted the flush trailing up the ivory skin. The boy's tongue poking out to lick across his generously pouty lips nervously. A tinkling laugh ghosting that mouth as he subtlely brushes a stray brunette lock from his face.

"Um - yeah. I'll take a... Um - sorry. I don't normally drink. I have no idea where to begin."

His voice was silky. The pitch beautifully feminine but masking a deep intonation that probably came out when the boy had a cock up his ass.

"You look like you might enjoy a good sea breeze."

"Ooh. Well, anything that doesn't remind me of cows or football jocks sounds lovely."

"Coming right up then."

Sebastian had turned to fully face him now, drinking him in as openly as he was swilling down his beer.

He chuckled as the newbie drummed his fingers against the bar, pretending to not notice Sebastian noticing him. Apparently the staring had become too much; perhaps too intimate of a gesture as newbie slowly addressed him with cautious contemplation.

"Can I help you with something?"

"Nope," Sebastian blurted, sipping at his beer with a smirk.

"Oh-kay," newbie ushered skeptically, turning slightly away as if this would revamp the invisible blockade he was hoping to create between them.

Eventually newbie's irritation with Sebastian's leering wins him over however.

"Seriously - what is it?"

"How old are you?"

"Twenty two. Why?"

"Liar," Sebastian sneers.

"W-what?"

"You aren't twenty-two."

"And how would you know? You don't know anything about me -"

"Oh, I know everything about you. I know that this is your first time here. Probably your first time ever at a bar not inside of an Applebee's. I know that you're a high schooler, probably so utterly exhausted with the shit that being super flametastic got you in this town full of hick red necks that you decided to treat yourself to a gay night out. So you got your resident school douche stick to make you a fake I.D. that probably has some caricature name like 'Ross Dangerfield' on it, and lied to your Mommy about staying at a friend's so you could come out and play without worrying her too much. That about sum it up pretty eyes?"

Newbie's eyes are swimming, bubbling with battling emotions before easily frosting over behind a cool glass of sharp blue. A sight that even Sebastian somehow found unnerving on something as dainty and fragile looking as this kid seemed to be.

"First of all, I despise Applebee's. Second, it actually says Alvin Lambert. And thirdly my Mom is dead you presumptuous asshole. But my Dad did approve of me going out to a midnight showing for a movie which according to my time, will be finishing up in the next hour."

The brunette accepted his drink with a nod of acknowledgement before chugging half of it down and smacking his lips obnoxiously.

"So I'd prefer if you didn't psycho-analyze me on my gay night out since my time is indeed limited. Actually, I'd prefer it if you didn't talk to me at all. Or stared at me creepily with your squinty meerkat face."

Well, damn. Point: Newbie.

"Suit yourself. But I'd think twice before dismissing me like a speck of shit on your pretty little boot heels Princess. You're gonna be needing my help."

"Oh and how do you figure that meerkat?"

"'Cause I wasn't the only one enjoying the view."

And just as Sebastian drains the rest of his beer, a seasoned Bear steps uncomfortably close to newbie, leaning over his shoulder and breathing beer tainted breath against the pale neck.

"You're cute. Can I keep you?"

"I'm sorry. I have an affinity to being kept by strange men. Also, I'm a bit uncomfortable with your clear invasion of my personal space."

"This is nothing baby. Give me a few minutes with you in the men's room and I'll be happy to really invade. Your. Space," the Bear whispers suggestively, biting his bottom lip as his fingers score across the Princess's delicate throat.

The blue eyes meet Sebastian's who then simply shrugs and faces forward to order another drink in response, leaving old blue eyes to fend for his fucking self.

Tommy's face scrunches up with displeasure as he notices the unwanted advances of the Bear against his newest customer. Sebastian has a sneaking suspicion Tommy has taken an immediate liking to the kid.

"Hey! Ron. Give it a rest, okay? You've had one too many and it's messing with your ability to know when to stop. So I'll help you. Knock it off!" Tommy warns, his hands spread across the tarnished bar top as he awaits Ron's reaction.

Ron chuckles darkly and then continues to lean into the kid, pressing his face into the neck and trailing light kisses there as if daring Tommy or anyone else to try him.

"Seriously - Stop," Princess pleaded, clearly past the point of exasperation and lingering on real fear.

Before Tommy could react, a glass beer bottle exploded over Ron the asshole's head, causing him to slump to the floor in a moaning heap. The bar seemed to be suspended in silence as Princess covered his mouth with both hands in shock, and Tommy gaped over at Sebastian.

What was left of his beer bottle was jagged and protruding edges pointed out toward the world like taut nipples, the bottle neck held firmly in his grip; completely contradictory of his non-chalant air. Sebastian tosses the broken bottle half in a nearby trash can indifferently.

"Fuck Sebastian!" Tommy hisses.

"You're welcome. I'll be leaving now. Oh, and before I forget," Sebastian steps on top of the hunched body, causing the man to growl out more painful moans as he slips several bills on the bar top.

"That should cover mine and Princess'. See you next week."

Sebastian winks at Tommy who groans exasperatedly but takes the money all the same.

The air feels like it's breathing new life into him when he makes it outside.

He pulls out a cigarette from the nearly empty pack in his coat pocket and lights it swiftly. As he sucks in the smoke, he starts dialing the usual cab company he used on his prepaid phone.

"Yeah, can you send me a cab. Address is 1201 Kramer. Yeah, Scandals. Right - the _gay_ place with the huge neon pink sign that might as well be a fucking neon ass outside that spells out the word - wait for it... Scandals. Thanks."

Idiot. He drags on his cigarette, reveling in the taste as he slowly blows out the smoke.

It's safe to say he's more than surprised when he hears that soft voice billow smoothly into the night like the smoke curling from his lips.

"Hey."

"What do you want_ Alvin_?"

"It's Kurt, actually."

"That's even worse."

"And you're Sebastian -"

"What are you, some sort of a private _dick_?"

"No. I'm a high schooler who snuck out under the guise of being at a movie just to feel normal for an hour."

"Normal. At this place?" Sebastian scoffed. "Fuck, how shitty is your life that this dive feels normal?"

"My turn. I take it you're some fascist asshole adrenaline junky who likes to get his kicks by picking up the lay of the week here and occasionally flexing his wiry muscle by smashing bottles over people's heads. Not to mention also being a high schooler."

Sebastian had the right mind to either kick the little shit's teeth in or ravage the shit out of his pinkened lips. He couldn't decide which one. So he settled on letting out an amused chuckle.

"I don't necessarily get my kicks from it and it's the more the like the lay of the day - not week. And you're wrong about the high school thing. I don't do school sweet cheeks."

"What are you some petulant, home schooled brat?"

"No. I'm some petulant escort drop out. School doesn't make me any money Princess."

"E-escort?"

"Mmhm. You know, the kind that fuck for cash."

"You're a - a prostitute?"

"Apparently school does wonders for one's power of deduction. Yeah, I fuck people for money. I've probably fucked half the bar in there at one time or another."

Kurt (he only remembers because - seriously - people still name their kids names that like?), appears just as astonished as he did when the beer bottle shattered against his assailants skull.

"I, um - okay. I'm gonna - do you, need a ride or something?"

"Excuse me?"

"I asked if you need a ride somewhere. I'm heading home and I guess it's the least I can do for you. You did show off your bottle breaking skills on my behalf so..."

"Right." Sebastian flicks the cigarette butt, watching it roll to a stop several feet away, smoke still trailing lightly from the tip. He then turns and faces the Princess, hands now settled in his pockets.

"Look if you want to hook up, we've got to make it quick cause I got shit to do. Normally it's two out the gate but for you... I'll make it an even hundred fifty."

"Sorry?"

"You wanna fuck me Princess. It's cash up front. Blow jobs are fifty. Hand jobs twenty and I don't swallow. So which one's your car?"

Kurt blinks at him, clearly speechless, his pale cheeks tinged pink under Sebastian's scrutiny.

"Well? Which car?"

"I don't want a blow job or a hand job or anything remotely near that. I just wanted to offer you a ride. That's it. Just a ride."

Sebastian's heard that one before. He'd even made the mistake of believing it once. That one ended with him needing a few stitches above his eye and having a sore jaw for a week. But something tells him that this kid actually doesn't mean him any harm. Not like it matters anyway. The dude was a waif. Sebastian could probably topple him with a single pinky.

"Yeah, whatever."

"Fine. Follow me."

Kurt saunters over to a clean looking SUV, a jet black Navigator that gleamed under the pinkish light washing over it from the reflected lights of the bar sign.

They halt as they reach the car.

"Now if you try anything weird. Like attempt to rob me or... anything else," here the kid's blush glosses over his cheeks, "I'll have you know that I keep pepper spray, and my Dad works at a garage where there are plenty of tools that would work wonderously in causing you gut wrenching pain. So I'd think twice."

Sebastian can't help but chortle. This kid made for good entertainment value if anything.

"Got it Princess. I'll just rob the next twink I see when you drop me off instead."

Kurt shoots him a look mingled with both apprehension and aggravation.

"Kidding sparkles. Shall we?"

Kurt rolls his eyes and hops into the vehicle, Sebastian still chuckling to himself as he closes the passenger side door behind him.

As he settles in, for some reason, they're still not moving.

"What gives Princess? Change your mind about the blow job?"

Kurt sighs heavily. "Gaga, no. I can't go until you put on your seat belt."

Sebastian laughs aloud but then stops when Kurt is still glaring over at him, apparently waiting for him to actually put on his seat belt.

"Wait - you weren't joking?"

Kurt's blue eyes thin, his mouth crimping into a worthy sneer.

"Huh. Okay. You really are uppity aren't you Princess? Maybe you should let me give you a freeby - loosen you up a bit. I'm sure any man who gets up your ass is gonna be pissed when his dick gets chafed by the stick you have stuck up there so really, I'd be doing them a favor."

"And now, we're off," Kurt sing songs, obviously miffed but choosing to not be goaded when he hears Sebastian's belt fasten closed.

They stay silent most of the ride with the exception being Sebastian redialing the cab company to cancel his transport and Kurt whispering out lyrics to some god awful show tune that Sebastian thankfully didn't recognize.

Sebastian switches on the radio, mostly just to piss the twink off. He tunes into a soft rock station and settles back into his seat while looking out the window.

"You could've just asked you know?"

"Asked what, sparkles?"

"Asked for me to stop singing. If it bothered you so much."

The kid sounds kind of hurt underneath his show of vexation. That doesn't really help to bolster Sebastian's hopeful amusement. If anything, it kind of deflates it.

"Your voice is weird."

Kurt huffs but doesn't say anything.

"But nice though. It sounds... Different. But nice. Honestly. It was more your song choice that was making my ears bleed."

"What? It's from Wicked. Everybody loves Wicked -"

"No. Not everybody obviously. Look can you just - shut up already and drop me off at the motel off of Pendleton? The cross street is Prairie."

Kurt grips the steering wheel tighter and bites his lip as he mumbles, "Mmhm."

Ten minutes later, when they're cruising through residential areas toward Sebastian's stop, Kurt breaks the silence.

"How old are you?"

"Who cares?"

"I'm just curious."

Sebastian shakes his head irritably, drifting into an uncomfortable pause before retorting.

"Eighteen."

"Oh. I take it that you're a Scorpio. You just have that - _sting_, about you."

"A Taurus actually. My birthday, I think it was yesterday."

Sebastian glimpses the green number signalling the time above Kurt's radio.

"Yeah. Since it's now 12:45 am, making it officially tomorrow. My birthday was yesterday. You can just pull up here," Sebastian points over to the side of the motel where an ice machine was located.

Kurt pulls to a stop and Sebastian climbs out.

"See ya around Princess." He shuts the door, then steps away from the car.

"Wait! Sebastian!"

The light brown head turns to face Kurt, eyebrow raised in obvious inquiry.

"Are you sure - Will you - Are you gonna be okay?"

Sebastian feels his lips curve upward.

"No. But, yeah," and he reverts to strolling back toward the motel entrance only to be halted once again by the sound of a door slamming shut. Kurt leans against his car, using it for a hard surface to write something down, and then bounds up to Sebastian, small slip of paper in hand.

"It's my number. Just - use it. You know, if you need something."

"Or if you need a quickie. Offer still stands. I don't even mind keeping my other customers waiting."

Kurt's supplies him with a wry smile and states almost affectionately, "Good night Sebastian. Take care of yourself."

Sebastian nods, slipping the paper inside his pocket.

"I always do Princess. I always do," he whispers to himself, as Kurt is now climbing back into his SUV.

Sebastian disappears inside the motel entrance. He stands inside the lobby just out of sight. A full thirty seconds later, Kurt finally pulls off and Sebastian steps back outside, leaning against the stucco wall as he pulls out another cigarette.

He had a feeling if Princess would've seen him take up his post outdoors that he wouldn't have been able to pull off. Probably would've scared off any potentials with his gay griping about hygiene or something else equally uptight.

Sebastian chuckles to himself again. He guessed the thought was sort of comforting... Somebody actually caring. Even if it was fleeting.

His mind wanders back to the confines of his life. He thinks that he'd better hit a couple John's before heading back to the apartment. Simon didn't tolerate being short with his cut. Simon never tolerated anything that wasn't to his liking. Which unfortunately felt like everything.

* * *

**A/N**: So... shall I continue? Please let me know what's on your mind. Many thanks!


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** This chap will give you more info on Sebastian's background. Plus a special appearance by two familiar, quite awesome folks. Enjoy! And please review. It works wonders for my desire to keep finding the right words and delving in the cool Kurtbastian waters of my psyche, lol.

**Warnings:** Mild violence and mentions of implied sexual abuse and substance use... and can I just say, I probably won't give warnings every single chapter for everything. Sometimes I just wanna get writing. Just keep in mind what I warned about at the beginning and know it'll show up eventually.

**Disclaimer:** Same as before, this time including the novel _Crime and Punishment_.

* * *

It's the late afternoon, and he's taken it upon himself to catch up on some reading.

It isn't often that he gets to lounge. But when he does, it's nearly always with a book in hand.

He hadn't been completely honest a few weeks ago with the pale teen he'd dubbed Princess. Truthfully, he wasn't exactly a drop out. It was more like he was never quite a 'drop in'. He had never attended school. Not even for a day.

As long as he could remember, since before he could forge any proper memories, Sebastian had been on the move - or more like in tow, with Simon.

He'd been raised (if you wanted to call it that) under the man's wing. School wasn't even an after thought. Not with the life they'd led. It was always fast cash through faster antics and constant moving from place to place. And books and learning just weren't a part of that lifestyle.

But despite his barriers, namely his lack of a formal academic education, Sebastian was just as well read as any other Joe Schmoe.

Simon had made sure that he could read, because he needed someone to help keep their bills in order and manage their finances. To essentially be their book keeper. And Sebastian was more than adept at that by the time he was a pre-teen.

Eventually however, he learned that just keeping tabs on their everyday finances wasn't enough for him. So he began to dabble in other areas of interest.

When he wanted to learn about insects when he was seven, he looked it up in a book.

When he was curious about times tables because he'd overheard another kid at a bus stop jabbering on about it a year later, he looked it up in a book.

Eventually Sebastian had taken it upon himself to provide his own formal education. And his teacher... Books. Libraries had become his secret get away over the course of his chaotic life.

By the time he was in his teens, he had flown through the GED course books and even tried his hand at the SAT prep texts. Not that he ever formally took the tests. But still, he just wanted to know that he could.

Needless to say, the kid knew what he was talking about. Mostly because he never took for granted the information received. Not like most kids his age, because they'd been lucky enough to have the knowledge delivered first hand. Sebastian had to use his own tenacity and his natural insatiable desire to learn as the means to gain that knowledge.

Books were his way of entertaining a peace of mind. The way to forget. Even if only for a little while...

"Hey Seb?"

Sebastian looks up from his copy of _Crime and Punishment_.

"Do you think San's on her way back yet?"

"'Course. You know how she is. She likes to make an entrance."

The blonde releases a heavy sigh and goes back to twirling her hair around her finger anxiously.

Believing his response to be satisfactory enough to quell her worry, he skims back over the page he'd just been perusing.

"Hey Seb?"

He sighs, a hint of exasperation pilfiring the air breathed out.

"Mmhm?"

"But she's still not here. I get nervous when she takes long."

"Why don't you turn on the TV for bit? Get your mind off it."

"Everything is re-runs or cooking shows. I like stuff to be new. And watching those chef guys make all that fancy food from like - France or other states just makes me hungry."

"Well I don't know what to tell you Brit," He finishes with a shrug. "Read a book or something. She should be here soon."

"But reading makes my head hurt -"

"Brittany, look- just - c'mere and I'll tell you about the book I'm reading. Okay? Maybe that'll help."

"Okay," she murmurs quietly, most likely sensing Sebastian's growing irritation. She slides off of the stool she was perched on, and tucks herself on the floor mattress next to Sebastian.

"So there's this dude, named Raskolnikov -"

"Rascalcover?"

"Sure. So Rascalcover decides that he wants to murder this pawnshop owner. This old lady he thinks is completely evil and too rich for her own good - "

"But killing is bad," Brittany dead pans.

"Well yeah - but, what if the person who killed was really a good person, and they were doing it in order to help other people? Maybe even to save someone that they loved."

"But won't that just make the good person a bad person too?"

Every now again, mostly on accident, the blonde would do or say something to cause him pause. It was normally a rare occurence given that the girl was honestly a few crayons short of a full box. But it was pretty phenomenal when it did happen.

"Hm. I don't know. Maybe."

Just as he begins to truly contemplate a response the front door bursts open, a thin latina adorning a skimpy skirt and clutching a handful of brown grocery bags barges into the flat.

"Hey. Sebastard. Put these away," she orders as she hands over the bags with a huff.

"Santana!" Brittany squeals excitedly, allowing Sebastian to take the grocery bags with a roll of his eyes before pouncing on the dark haired girl who's cynical response toward Sebastian was long forgotten when her warm gaze landed on the other occupant of the room.

"Hey Brit, Brit. Miss me?" She says merrily while pecking the blonde's lips and throwing her arm protectively over her shoulder.

"Yep. What did you bring?"

"Mostly breakfast stuff. I was thinking we could do pancakes for dinner."

Brittany breaks from Santana's hold in order to jump up and down and clap in her absolute delight.

"I love brinner! Can we do chocolate chip pancakes?"

"I figured you'd want that so I made sure to get a bag and a thing of strawberries too."

"Yay! Awesome!" the blonde yelps with plentiful enthusiasm as she pulls Santana into another crushing hug.

Both girls pause after pulling away, when Brittany says, "salty."

And Santana finishes, "and sweet."

It was their inside joke with each other that wasn't at all as 'inside' as they thought it was. Basically it boiled down to Brittany's lack of understanding of having breakfast items for dinner and whether or not it still constitutes as breakfast.

To disrupt her confusion, they simply decided on calling the affair 'brinner'.

Sebastian had to roll his eyes again as he put away the grocery items, though he knew the stupid smile on his face spoke volumes about his true affection for the two girls.

They had become his surrogate family. His only family really.

Simon had included them as a part of his special collection.

First came Santana, a run away foster kid from Detroit. Pick pocketing, lifting, stealing scraps to get by. She'd been on the street since she was ten. She'd had a little sister once, but she'd long since been lost in the foster system leaving Santana unequivocally alone. It didn't take long for Simon to get his paws on her once she'd hitch hiked her way into Ohio by age twelve. She'd become his largest grossing commodity by the time she was fifteen.

Brittany came a few years later. When Sebastian and Santana had decided to stop hating each other and just turn their scorn and hatred inward onto themselves; their addiction faze at its peak with the arrival of the blonde.

Her Uncle Booker, who tended to like touching her a little too much, dropped her off just outside of Pittsburgh with some pedophilic stranger to pay off a gambling debt. Brittany was just shy of fourteen at the time. Her Uncle never came back to get her.

She escaped from the guy simply called Mister, a year later.

Simon had eventually come into her life by her fifteenth birthday. She'd been with them ever since. To this day, Brittany still couldn't stand yelling or loud noises without going completely shell shocked, or being triggered into hysterics.

They were all screwed up. Immensely fucked up.

But they had each other. And this crappy one bedroom apartment. And their stupid 'brinner' dates just to feel a little sense of normalcy between the sexcapades and lack of purpose.

By about 6:30, they heard the sound of the door slamming open, drawing attention away from their impromptu brinner. Sebastian shifted uncomfortably, the bottle of cheap wine he'd had pressed to his lips sinking toward the table automatically.

Simon stormed in, tell tale sneer settled comfortably on his face as he observed the three of them sitting at the little kitchenette table. He strode toward the table and snatched up the wine bottle, chugging what was left of it down with obnoxious gulps.

"So," he states coldly once he's topped off the bottle, "I see you three are being a bit rude. Not even bothering to wait till I got home."

"We didn't know how long you were gonna be Simon," Santana tries.

Simon smiles. Then he snakes his hand through her hair and yanks harshly causing her to cry out, Santana's hands thoughtlessly groping over his to ease the pain.

"Next time... You should fucking - WAIT!" He bellows, throwing her to the floor by her mane. He takes her seat, Sebastian glaring daggers at him across the table while the bastard starts to dig into what was left of Santana's plate. Brittany is tearful, her hands still pressed over her ears as a result of Simon's loud shouting.

He was high. Sebastian knew it the second he heard the door slam open. Simon looks up from his plate, fork piled with a chunk of syrupy pancake bits.

"What? Something to say there, Seb?"

Sebastian just stares, wishing that his eyes could leak venom that would seep into the dude's pores. Simon chortles and stabs another pile onto his fork. Eventually Brittany slides down on the floor to help Santana up.

"Don't. Both of you stay down there. You can finish your food on the fucking floor."

He shoves two plates with the thinnest pancakes from the serving dish on the floor, tossing several forks down a second later.

"Eat it while it's still warm. Then I don't want to see either of you for the rest of the night until you have money in your hands. Got it?"

They both remain silent. Simon looks up from his plate with a significant glare.

"Got. It?" He repeats with a more fearsome air: slow and chilling.

"Yes," they parrot.

"Good. Seb. What were you doin' before I got here?"

"Reading."

"Well get back to it. I don't need you in my face either."

Sebastian hesitates.

"GO!" Simon barks visciously. Sebastian stalks from the table and retrieves his book, tucking himself in the corner of the mattress to resume the book, trying to read over words that just weren't making sense at the moment. Not when his emotions were clouding his judgement and making it impossible to focus.

He managed to make eye contact with Santana across the room without detection. It was clear that she hated Simon probably more than he did.

But no matter how much of an abusive fucking ass munch the guy was, he was still important to him.

He was the one who had raised him. The one who had kept him all of these years and taught him the ropes. The one who helped him survive being an orphan.

Simon was still his older brother...

His crazy, sadistic, manipulative, biological older brother. Who also happened to be his pimp.

It's at this moment, when he can hear Brittany's strained sniffling and Santana trying to quietly comfort her that he can understand Rascalcover's logic.

* * *

**A/N**: Thoughts... please and a very grateful thank you!


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** We get to see what Sebastian's job is like. So in other words, some smut be goin' down.

* * *

Sebastian was staring down at the juke box, no inclination to actual use the damn thing. Just staring...

"Hey. I got Foreman to do guard duty on the bar. Need you to come with me for a bit."

He turned toward the shorter man who's mustache took over most of his mouth. He wondered randomly if dudes got serious brush burns on their dick during a blow job from the old bastard.

"You must be more hard up than I thought if you're looking for a blowie during work hours."

Tommy scowled. "Just c'mon, you mouthy twat."

Sebastian releases a sigh and grudgingly follows Tommy into the back of the bar, the loud chattering and conversations dying away as he leads him into his office. The space is basically being used for storage judging by all of the stacked boxes and crates. He gestures for Seb to take a seat on the only visible portion of his desk while he rummaged through a file cabinet drawer on the other side.

He pulls out a small box with a red ribbon tied around it.

"The fuck is this?" Seb asks as Tommy holds the package out for him to take.

"It's a delivery. Shit I normally wouldn't do. But I liked the kid and you're alright sometimes. When you're not being a snarky little bastard."

Sebastian is still eyeing the thing like it's going to explode, completely unmoving as his eyes rove carefully over the glossy silver paper and meticulously tied ribbon with a grave reluctance.

"The kid? You know, the one you nearly gave Ron a skull fracture over? Princess?"

"What does he have to do with this?"

"He came here last week. Looking for you. He asked me to give this to you when you didn't show that night."

There's a moment that Sebastian feels an unfamiliar warmth coursing through him, trying to overtake his eyes. But just as quickly he pushes it away. Chastising himself for the sickly urge to be happy at the gesture.

"Great. Looks like I got a stalker. You should've told him to fuck off," Sebastian states coolly, but covertly slips the box into his pocket anyway.

"Right. So, you're keeping in touch then?"

"No."

"So you're saying he's not one of your John's? Thought you didn't keep in contact with anyone other than your customers?"

"Look - stay out of it Gramps. Thanks for the fucking box. Now I'm leaving."

Tommy just chuckles, his forearm muscles tightening as he crosses his arms over his chest speculatively. Sebastian is seriously fucking irked to no end as he stalks from the office and heads directly to the bar.

"Foreman, give me a beam straight."

"Gotcha," the lithe brunette with the thin soul patch intoned, immediately shooting into action. Seb figured he was probably happy at the prospect of having something to do as the bar was beyond empty.

He knocks back his drink and hones in on one of his regulars, a suit and tie named Brad sitting at a corner table nursing a beer.

Perfect. Just what he needed. He slaps a bill on the bar top and proceeds to ready himself mentally for the attack.

Sebastian slinks up to him, his seductive smirk easily sliding over his face as he sits across from the guy.

"Hey baby. What're you doing by yourself?"

Brad shrinks into his seat, a conspicuous blush creeping over his face. He was middle aged, unmarried and normally unlucky in love with several women he'd met through dating websites. He was a porn addict who loved cosplay and being dominated. In high school he was president of the AV club and was no more closer to getting laid then as he was as an adult now. Hence Sebastian being acquainted with him.

Seb was an attractive suitor who passed no judgement, and openly played Brad's games. And he liked Brad, because he was a push over with Mommy issues and would never dare to be violent. Just wasn't in the dude's nature.

He knew Brad's whole story. He also knew how easily he could bate the guy. Sebastian liked that he could have that kind of power over someone. It was sad in some respects, but very enthralling at the same time.

"Just - having a drink."

"Rough day at the office?"

"The worst," Brad relates, meeting Sebastian's gaze through his square rimmed glasses.

"Well, I bet I can make it all better. If you'll let me," Sebastian purs as he runs his long fingers through Brad's curly locks. Well, the thicker portion that wasn't receding.

Brad swallows, then nods in awe. Sebastian leads him by the hand and they retreat outside into the parking lot.

"Where's your car baby?"

"O-over here," Brad points with his free hand. When they make it to the vehicle, Sebastian reminds the dude of his expectations, his hands sliding over the buttons of Brad's dress shirt, raking slightly as he dragged his fingers gradually, his lips ghosting the skin over Brad's pulse point.

"You remember my rates right baby?"

"Y-yeah. I - um, don't really have enough for - you know..." Brad trails off.

"Whatever baby. I just wanna suck your big cock," Sebastian whispers huskily.

Brad fumbles with his keys and then manages to unlock the door, he and Sebastian sliding into their respective seats.

Sebastian chances a look around, noting that the parking lot was completely barren of any stragglers and sweeps his hand over Brad's hard on through the gray pleated dress pants.

"Bradley. Condom?"

Brad nods and reaches over to pull open the glove compartment. Good. He came prepared tonight. He didn't want this to take too long. Sebastian smacks the hand away with a glare.

"Did I say you could get it?"

Brad's eyes seem to sparkle with arousal at Sebastian's tone.

"No," the nerdy office manager breathes.

"No. I didn't. Now sit your ass back. Or I'll make you so fucking sorry."

Brad is breathing hard now, Sebastian procuring the silver package and ripping it expertly with his teeth. He wastes no time as he unzips Brad and pulls his cock out. He then places the condom in his mouth, making sure to meet Brad's eye, and then drags his mouth downward over the length, rolling the condom along the shaft.

"Oh - God!"

Sebastian hums over the cock, chuckling darkly as he pulls up and smacks Brad's cheek.

"Who the fuck said you could talk? Huh?"

"N-nobody -"

"That's right nobody. You fucking piece of shit. Now tell me how bad you want it and maybe I'll give it to you."

"Oh please - Sebastian - I want it!"

"Tell me you want me to hit you."

"Please hit me."

"Louder."

"Hit me, oh, please -"

"Fucking louder you wormy piece of closet case shit!"

"Please hit me!"

Sebastian slaps his cheek swiftly and then wraps Brad's tie around his throat, tugging him forward and then wraps his lips around the cock. He sucks in, his grip tightening on the tie.

Sebastian pops off of the veined member, giving the tie a sharp tug, "say you like it you fucking bitch."

"I - I, like it," Brad splutters out, face reddening from the tie cutting into his throat.

"Say you love it."

"I - fucking, l-love it!"

Brad cries out as Sebastian returns to a steady rhythm, sucking with fervor, wanting this to be over as quickly as possible. He can tell that Brad's losing it. That he was gonna cum in mere seconds.

And then it happens...

It wasn't Brad's cock deep in his throat. He had to literally force himself to keep a tight hold on the tie, because the face swimming in his mind's eye was no longer lined by age, and free of square glasses... He saw soft brunette hair, and perfect pale skin and the sound of a wanton moan that recalls a cry between something feminine and masculine intertwined...

Princess was too good to be pinned like this; to be treated like complete trash. He was too pure to get off on shit like this. Sebastian's inexplicable urge to keep him safe, not to harm him like this was making him want to release the tie...

When Brad finally came, Sebastian pulled away as if he'd been burned, nearly barreling from the car altogether before collecting his money.

Brad had enough time for a mumbled "thanks," before Sebastian nodded, money in pocket, and stormed from the car out into the night. He was going to walk. He could catch a cab when he made it to the nearest bus stop a few miles away.

He felt himself nearly be sick when his hand grazed the small box in his pocket, the cash he'd just made caressing against the silver wrapping as he bounded forward.

* * *

**A/N:** I was able to get a lot of writing done since yesterday so I'll have another chap up probably by today at some point. Reviews equal smiles and prompt my writing mind into action. Thanks as always for your guys awesome words. Also, Kurt will be joining us next chap. :)


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Mentions of violence and the aftermath of said violence. Otherwise, enjoy!

* * *

They'd taken the three hundred and fifty he'd scored tonight.

One blonde emo kid who seemed harmless enough turned into four variable and quite formidable hyped up addicts who had obviously been scamming him from the get go.

He should've seen it coming. He'd been sloppy. Plain and simple.

His first mistake: agreeing to meet in an alley. A cardinal rule in his line of work that he'd broken due to his own growing haste and sense of recklessness as of late. Secondly, he had alluded that he was alone. Another nearly sinful breech of his usual agenda. Thirdly, he'd forgotten his lucky switch blade. The third and final testament to him not being right of mind, and one error apparently worthy of a severe ass kicking.

It hurt to move. Like - really, fucking hurt to move.

Not that he hasn't been roughed up before. He'd had a few nights where he'd come across a John or two who got a little too rough to say the least, usually leaving him bruised up and cum stained. He definitely wasn't a stranger to Simon's fists either.

It'd been a while since he'd gotten his ass beat like this though. Always trying to do everything in his power to be cautious, to avoid the rage of suppressed frustration from random John's and refrain from triggering Simon's ever flaring temper.

He thought he'd had it down to a science. But life held no guarantees.

Thankfully they hadn't taken his cell. And by some other miracle avoided checking his pockets for the other trinket currently settled there.

The necklace sporting a decorative bull, the sign of the Taurus. The single thing inside of that stupid box that Princess had left for him the week before. Sebastian presumed it to be a belated and very undeserved homage to his birthday.

He didn't wear it of course. He couldn't bring himself to for some reason. But he also couldn't throw it away, so he kept it with him in his uncertainty, always pocketed and untainted. He supposed he didn't want to expose it to his own sex spoiled flesh. The skin that was so often maltreated and defiled by strange hands.

His left eye was rapidly swelling. Probably would be swollen shut within the hour. His ribs felt like they could be cracked where their heavy boots and sneakered feet drove into his sides while he was hunched over and could do nothing but hope that they wouldn't keep kicking until he stopped breathing.

Eventually he managed to sit up, spitting out a mouth full of blood and assessing his nose, the blood still running freely as he wiped it away with his sullied finger tips. He'd gotten in a couple of good licks, but in the end, four against one was just too much to fight off. He could still hear the sounds of their laughter and scurrying feet as they took off and left him there in a broken heap.

He groaned audibly as he reached in his pocket and pulled out his cell. He dialed Santana first.

The automated message he received confirmed that she had in fact run out of minutes on her pre-paid cell. Simon would be pissed if he found out that she hadn't renewed them yet. He hated not being in contact with them at all times. It was part of the protocol.

He couldn't call Brittany. She was honestly just too simple and honest to forgo lying for him if he needed it.

And fuck... Simon was going to have a shit fit over this one. Sebastian knew it. Getting himself mugged and then beat to shit to boot... He would be lucky if Simon didn't beat him further and swell up his other eye for the disturbance to his regular cash flow.

Sebastian looked at the time on his phone screen, gleaming brightly in the darkened alleyway.

It was 1:32 am.

Simon was expecting him back by the early morning.

Fuck...

He dialed the only other number he could think of. He scrolled through his contact log and hit the call button when it locked on the labeled title, _Princess_.

Just as it rang for the sixth time and he had convinced himself that he was surely going mad to have dialed the number in the first place and that he should just hang up, someone picked up.

"H-hello?"

His voice was roused with sleep. But still, there was no mistaking that lilty, effeminate tone.

"Hey there Princess."

"S-Sebastian?"

He couldn't help but smile. He didn't know why.

"Yeah. It's me."

Silence.

"So - why are you calling me at almost," a quick pause, "two o'clock in the morning?"

"I, uh, just thought it'd better than calling you at three."

Another significant pause.

"I suppose that's considerate of you. Again, what can I help you with at this hour?"

"I was hoping I could maybe get a ride somewhere."

"You're seriously calling me at this time of night - to get a ride?"

"Yeah."

"Are you suddenly too good for a cab?"

"Look - I had a rough night. I really shouldn't have called you. That was stupid. See you around your majesty -"

"Wait! Sebastian, don't hang up! I - I'll help you. Where are you?"

He winces a bit as he stands up.

"W-what's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just need to check out the address."

He slowly meanders down back out of the alley into the open street. He spots the street signs and notes the corner liquor store.

"It's Gordon Lane, and Ridgeview. There's a liquor store on the corner and a small Thai place across from that."

"Okay. Isn't that near Lima Heights?"

"It's on the edge of it - yeah."

"I'm coming. Just be waiting for me."

"Hey Princess? What about your Dad? I'm sure he's not gonna be okay with your late night field trip."

"N-no. Probably not. Don't worry about that right now. Just - just be waiting, okay?"

"Okay."

"I'll be there in the next half hour."

And when Sebastian clicked the phone off and stuffed it back into his pocket, he honestly didn't expect that the kid would show. He could never depend on anyone but himself. He'd learned that a long time ago. But he figured he had time to at least humor himself. It's not like he was in a state to re-make the money he'd lost and Simon was going to be royally furious with him. So, he waited...

After his third cigarette, he spotted Kurt's Navigator and shook his head in amusement as the kid swooped up to the curb. Sebastian calmly flicked his cigarette away and smirked as the passenger side window rolled down.

"What the hell happened to you?"

"Just another late night at the office, Princess."

Kurt sighs heavily and then presses the automatic lock button to unlock the door.

"Get in."

Sebastian grimaces as he slowly crawls inside, shutting the door behind him and trying to breathe evenly through the pain.

"God, Sebastian. You look... completely awful. M-maybe I should take you to the hospital -"

"No! No - I can't go there. Just take me to that motel you dropped me off at last time."

Kurt is eyeing him carefully, the car still in park. Sebastian realizes why he must be remaining absurdly inactive.

"Oh, right. Seat belt."

Sebastian moves to pull his seat belt over his shoulder but Kurt stops him with a gentle hand, easing his hand back down.

"You don't have to do that. I just - I'm sorry that happened to you."

Sebastian can't help but sneer at the little fairy's concern. It was an automatic reaction he tended to enforce in response to kindness. Since kindness wasn't really real.

"You don't even know what happened. Maybe I deserved it. Maybe I got involved in some shit way above your little fairy dusted mind."

"It doesn't make me any less sorry," Kurt explained with a faint, but wholly sincere tone.

Sebastian doesn't know what to say to that. "Whatever. Just drive."

Kurt huffs and pulls away from the curb as they careen through the less than favorable streets of Lima Heights adjacent, and head toward the seedy motel that Sebastian frequented.

When they make it there, both sit in silence, Sebastian reluctant to get out though he'd never admit it aloud.

"So - we're at my stop."

"Yeah."

"Um - okay, then. Thanks for the ride. I guess maybe I'll see you around."

"Yeah," Kurt whispers.

As Sebastian starts to push open the door, Kurt's hand clutches onto his shoulder; no real force behind it, but enough to hold him in place.

"I'm not leaving you here. I can't."

"What? What're you talking about?"

"I just - you're not staying here. I don't know what happened tonight. All I know is that you're hurt and you can't stay in some shitty motel by yourself."

"So where do you suggest I go? The Marriott? Or maybe the Hilton?" He suggests sarcastically.

"No. You're gonna come with me."

"To where?"

"To my house."

"Sorry. Maybe I busted an ear drum earlier, but I thought I heard you say your house. As in, where your Dad lives?"

"Yes -"

"No. No way, Princess. I already got my ass kicked thoroughly once tonight. I'm not in the mood for a second round."

"I don't think you're understanding me. This isn't a request. Now close the door, sit your ass back down, and settle in because you're coming. To. My. House."

Sebastian was honestly too tired to argue. And hell, what else did he have to lose?

"Fine. Not that I can deny her royal highness anything." So, Sebastian slinks back into his seat and allows the teenaged ice queen to chauffeur him back to his personal palace. This time when Kurt started to hum, Sebastian just let him.

* * *

Sebastian's heart is hammering as they sneak through the dark house. He was just waiting for the moment when a frying pan or a baseball bat came sailing through the dark and cracked his skull open.

He was a little surprised when they made a right turn and headed down some steps as opposed to going up the staircase to the left. It wasn't a problem for him to go slow as the pain was easily controlling his pace.

When they officially made it down the steps and Kurt had closed the door behind them, Kurt began to rummage through a small refrigerator kept near a large computer desk. He pulled out an ice pack and handed it over.

"Put this over your eye. If we had any slabs of steak I'd tell you to use that for the swelling but I don't eat red meat and my Dad's been on a diet. Has to watch his cholesterol and sodium intake."

Sebastian took a seat at the computer desk, gingerly placing the ice pack over his eye, marvelling at the vast size of the kid's room. Palace indeed...

"So it's just you and your Dad? In this big house?"

"Oh, no. It used to be. But that was before he got remarried. My step mother and step brother live here now too," Kurt explained as he pulled off his coat and hung it back in his expansive closet adorning what looked to be hundreds of outfits. But it probably looked like a lot more than it actually was because Sebastian had never seen anything like it. He only ever had a few outfits himself, and didn't take much stock in stylish clothing. He was just fine in t-shirts and jeans.

Kurt continued to fix things around the room but Sebastian was hardly paying any attention. He was too lost in the idea of what his life could've been like if he'd been born under different circumstances.

Finally Kurt announces, "I'm going to go to sleep now."

"Oh. Right."

Sebastian stands up and begins undressing. He strips down until he's in his boxers. He hesitates for a second, and then does what comes naturally to him.

He pulls off his boxers and as swiftly as he can manage with his battered body, slides into the bed with Kurt.

"Holy Prada, what're you doing? Are you naked?"

"Yeah -"

"What do you mean, _yeah?_ You shouldn't be naked. You shouldn't be in my bed -"

"I just thought, you know, that I should - pay you back -"

"Wha - Pay me back? Oh. My. God." Kurt splutters as he jumps out of the bed, his blue silk pajamas making a delicate swishing sound with the haste of his movements.

"You can't be serious. W-were you - were you gonna try to have... _s-sex_ with me?"

"What? I mean - you helped me, so I figured I'd help you out. What's the big deal, Princess?"

Kurt's normally pale features were emblazoned, the blush noticable even with the scarce light coming from a nearby street light trickling in through the small window overhead.

"Y-you can't just - do _that_. It doesn't work that way."

"I have at least twenty regulars who would disagree with you. And I have condoms."

"Okay - well, not with me. It doesn't work that way with me."

And then it hits Sebastian. The furious blushing. The awkward stuttering that the normally eloquent Princess never seemed to have a problem with...

"You're a virgin. Aren't you?"

"Wha - you - It's none of your business."

"So that's a yes, then."

"Look - sex is not just some play thing for me or some hobby to make money. It just - means more to me than that. So you don't owe me. Well, you do owe me by putting your clothes back on and then carrying off into some sex crazed dream without _me _in it."

Sebastian felt weird. He wasn't used to this. Was it actual embarrassment?

"I don't know about you, but I don't normally sleep in my clothes."

Kurt whisks over to an antique looking dresser and pulls it open. He extracts another pair of silk pajama pants and a matching shirt and hands it over to Sebastian, blush slightly receding.

"I don't really do shirts."

Kurt huffs quietly, then takes the shirt and tosses it into the hamper across the room. Sebastian steps out of the bed, taking Kurt by surprise as the Princess hurriedly turns away to avoid seeing Sebastian naked, the blush back in full effect.

Sebastian smiles at what he perceives as a comical, yet kind of sweet display of modesty that he hasn't observed maybe ever, quickly pulling the sort of tight pajama pants on with a snap of the waistband.

"You can turn around Sparkles. My dick is tucked away."

Kurt timidly looks over his shoulder, and then upon seeing that Sebastian hadn't been lying, turned to fully face him.

There was the briefest moment, where Sebastian could've sworn that Kurt had been ogling his body, but then that glint of appreciation had died away, leaving a sympathetic gleam in its wake.

"You - you have, bruises. A lot of them."

Sebastian hadn't really looked at himself. He normally didn't make it a habit. But as he surveyed his arms and what he could make out of his chest and abs, he noted that he had indeed garnered a fair few patches of bruised skin.

"Shit happens," was all he could say. Kurt bites his lip, clearly struggling with some internal monologue.

"I made a pallet for you - by the side of the bed. But I think maybe you should take the bed -"

"No. Not gonna happen."

"But it's going to be uncomfortable with all of those bruises - "

"I've dealt with worse. Trust me."

Kurt still looked torn. It was kind of cute. In a pathetic, gay sort of way.

"Look, it's the least I can do. You won't let me show you my way of thanks. So, just give me this one. Please?" He adds at the end, hoping to convey the necessity of him at least not kicking the kid out of his own bed after what he'd done for Sebastian.

Kurt shakes his head, but then stalks over to sling a pillow on the floor on the designated pallet.

"Thanks," Sebastian stated quietly.

"You're welcome."

Both of them settle down in their respective spots. Kurt is shuffling like a cat as he gets comfortable underneath the down comforter dressing his king sized bed. Sebastian is trying to avoid lying on his back or front, curling onto his side in hopes of obstructing some of the soreness lingering, what felt like everywhere else.

"Hey, Kurt?"

There's a pause in which Sebastian thinks that the kid may have already drifted off.

"Yes?" He finally answers.

There were a lot of potential words floating in the space between them. But none became clear, or felt good enough to say. So he consented to a simple, "good night."

"Night, meerkat."

Sebastian wasn't sure what would happen tomorrow. But for now, he felt okay, despite the physical pain. He was thankful for once that he'd gone against his instinct and had kept that slip of paper baring the number that allowed access to a uniquely pretty voice with a matching face. Who apparently is as virginal as he is caring.

* * *

**A/N:** Tell me what you think. Much love!


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N**: I've been writing up a storm this weekend. I figured I'd try to do as much as I can now because it may take a while to write and post more once the work week starts. Be prepared for some familial awkwardness... Ready, Set, Burt!

* * *

He wakes up in a cold sweat.

It happens often enough. But this time it took him a few seconds to absorb his surroundings and put conscious effort into recalling his last actions before he'd fallen asleep.

Right. He was at Casa de Princess. On the floor. In snug, silk pajama bottoms.

Sebastian wipes the sweat off of his forehead, and wills his heart to stop beating so fucking fast.

But the images of kicking feet, blood, and falling still feel too real. It was weird. The last image he retained from his dreams was a blurred vision of a woman, maybe blonde, calling his name. It wasn't the first time he'd envisioned her. He thinks of other blurred images, always scrambled and non-sensical, but somehow feeling so real it made his heart feel constricted; plagued with an inexplicably heavy sense of loss when he'd awaken.

In the dream, his current self watched as the child version of himself ran into her arms only to be swept up and carried into a vast, wheat colored field. When current Sebastian turned away, he was staring down at a knife sticking from his chest... His own hand crafted switch blade protruding from his heart and Simon laughing wickedly at the utter confusion etched on Sebastian's face; smiling deviously at the stab wound he'd inflicted...

Fuck. He needed some cold water. Fast.

He knew it was a huge risk, but judging by the lack of natural light coming in through Kurt's window, he noted that he'd likely only been asleep for a few hours tops, and it was still early morning given the darkness outside. If he was quiet enough, he could splash some water on his face and slip back to bed before being noticed.

He quietly threw off the thin sheet covering himself, physically pained at having to withold the groan twitching underneath his lips as he stood up, trying to ignore the stiffness of his joints and soreness accompanying the bruises riddling his body.

Kurt was still asleep. Tangled in his comforter, but looking blissfully passed out none the less. He edged his way up the steps, channeling his inner stealth operative as he ascended quietly.

He managed to make it out the basement door, taking a second to pause before proceeding to the area he recalls the kitchen being in.

He tip toes toward the kitchen, slightly startled to find that the light is on. He nearly yelps however at the sight of a person standing in the corner near the coffee machine. And said person was now brandishing a rather large kitchen knife in their grip...

"I don't know who you are, but if you're breaking into my house, I'd suggest you start running before I toss this knife at you and start screaming for my husband which in that case, you'd be better off dealing with the knife."

"I - I'm so sorry. I'm a friend - a friend of Kurt's. My name's Sebastian. He was letting me stay here for the night," Sebastian explains hurriedly.

The woman was still wielding the knife, but it had lowered a fraction. She was dressed in nurses scrubs and had a bobbed haircut which complimented her buxom figure.

"I've never met you before. I feel like I know most of Kurt's friends."

"Yeah. Um - we just met. A few weeks ago actually."

It was then that the woman, he presumed to be Kurt's step mom, was able to glimpse over his body. The bruises standing prominently over his skin in the flourescent lighting. Not to mention the probably grotesque looking eye which was practically sealed shut due to the swelling.

"Oh - honey. What happened to you?"

"Um, yeah. The bruises you mean -"

"And your face."

"Right. Nothing much. Um, I sort of a had a run in with some pretty fuck- I mean, messed up guys."

"Did you get checked out a hospital?"

"I was afraid to go. I don't like them very much to be honest." Sebastian doesn't know why he'd shared that, but that last remark was actually the truth, and it came without hesitation. That plus he was sure that they'd have no record of him, and he didn't feel like dealing with the questioning. He'd never gone to the hospital. Simon had insisted on that.

She finally puts the knife down, and gestures for him to sit on a nearby stool.

"Well, let me at least have a look at you. You'd be better off getting x-rayed judging by the location of some of the bruising. But I can at least assess it for you and maybe give you something to help with the pain."

Sebastian took tentative steps forward and slowly eased onto the stool that she'd indicated.

She begins to examine him, her fingers sliding over his torso, pressing on spots here and there, causing him to wince and hiss audibly.

"Sorry. I know it hurts. I'm almost done," she comments lightly as she scores over a few more areas before pulling away with a sigh. "Well from what I can tell, it looks like you definitely have a few bruised ribs. Otherwise you're just a bit banged up externally. The bruising will go away within a week or so. But it's best to take pain meds, get some ointment on there, and keep ice on when you can. It'll help with the swelling over that eye especially. As far as the ribs go, you'll have to take it easy for a bit. Try not to do anything too strenuous for at least a week."

Great. Did sex count?

"Thanks - um - Misses?"

"Hudson-Hummel. I personally think it's kind of a mouthful and sort of awkward to say. Particularly if you're in a hurry. You can just call me Carole."

"Okay. Carole. Thank you."

"Just be grateful that his Father didn't come across you first. He thankfully has a later shift at the Tire shop today. I, on the other hand happen to be on quite the opposite schedule."

Ah. That comment Kurt made about his Dad having tools at his disposal to cause Sebastian impendingly horrendous pain was making more sense now. The dude worked out of a Tire shop. Where he probably had access to some God awful gadgets and appliances pretty suited for inducing harm.

"So, Sebastian, right?"

Sebastian nods succinctly in response.

"How do you take your coffee?"

"Er- I - however. I'd be happy to have any at all."

Carole smiles warmly at him. He felt oddly lucky to be receiving the gesture for some reason. An actual mothering mannerism that was aimed at him. Strange. But nice.

"I'll get you something light, lots of cream and sugar. So you can wash down the ibuprofen I give you to take. Okay?"

"Yeah. Okay."

And she bustles about the kitchen, setting to making their coffee. Sebastian all the while wondering why he could only dream of mother figures like her, and not ever have been able to experience one in his real life growing up.

* * *

Sometime later, a sleepy looking Kurt shuffles into the kitchen, his blue eyes widening comically at the sight of Carole and Sebastian sitting together at the bar sipping coffee.

"Wha - uh - Carole - who's this strange - boy - here - not in bed - having coffee with you? Friend of Finn's?" Kurt declares, his pitch entering an even higher register with his wildly eccentric surprise.

"Uh huh." Carole drawls, taking a swift sip from her coffee mug and failing to hide her growing smile at Princess' reaction. "No. Actually I believe he's a friend of _yours_. Sleeping in _your_ room. Without your Father's or my approval."

"Ha. Yeah. About that -"

"It's cool Prin- uh, Kurt. I told Carole here about everything. That we met at a school PFLAG meeting for all of the high schools in the regional area a few weeks ago. How I called you for a ride last night after I'd been mugged by some classless homophobes and asked you if I could stay. So that way my Uncle wouldn't ask too many questions."

Sparkles looks like he can catch flies in his gaping mouth. Sebastian gives him an encouraging nod, which seems to re-awaken Kurt from his momentary stupor.

"Yeah. Um - right. It was last minute and I didn't want to wake you guys up." Kurt states imploringly to Carole, still looking stunned at his own ability to speak at all.

"Well next time you should. We don't want you to get hurt or have to handle something serious like this on your own. It's really too bad that you didn't get a good look at who it was that did this to you, Sebastian. I'd drive you into the police station myself so you could make a report."

"Yeah. But you know. Karma. I'll leave it up to that."

Carole chuckles in response causing Kurt to shift uncomfortably. "Well, for now Kurt, I'm just glad that Sebastian's alright and you were able to be a friend to him."

"Yeah. Of course. Will do. Um - is there coffee left?"

"Plenty. Have a seat. You still look pretty wiped out so I'll get you a cup," Carole relates pleasantly as she busies herself with acquiring a mug from the cupboard and clamoring to make a cup for Kurt.

Kurt plants himself on a stool giving Sebastian a side long glance, thankful that both of their backs were turned toward Carole and that the clattering of dishes was just loud enough to eclipse his whispering.

"PFLAG? Really?" He mouths incredulously.

"I don't live under a rock Princess. I know about shit like that."

"What else did you tell her?"

But before Sebastian can respond, Carole interrupts when she places Kurt's coffee mug in between them, both boys instinctively becoming more rigid and poised as if they hadn't just been having a whispered debate.

Sebastian flashes his most sickeningly charming smile.

"Thanks again for everything Carole. For being understanding about all of this."

Sebastian nearly snorts into his cup when he catches Kurt mouthing, _"Carole?"_ as if he'd never heard the name before.

"Of course sweetheart. You just remember what I said, okay?" she remarks sweetly, giving Sebastian's cheek an affectionate pat before retrieving her now empty coffee mug and rinsing it out at the sink.

"I will."

"Good. Now," she began, her tone briskly manifesting into something akin to a more formal, business like resonance, "I need to be going. My shift's going to be starting in twenty minutes. Just enough time to get to the hospital. Now Kurt, your Father's going to be up by nine this morning so I'd suggest that you two sleep in for a bit longer and then head out before he's up. I know him well enough to know that he's going to be too distracted that there's a strange boy in your room to care about the circumstances. I'll leave him a note to try to explain just in case."

She shoulders her simple beige purse and gathers her keys.

"And I wouldn't worry about Finn. You know how he is on weekends. He'll be out till noon or later."

"Right. Thank you, Carole," Kurt supplies, the woman pausing long enough to shoot them both a final smile.

"Anytime sweetie. Sebastian, please take care of yourself."

"I'll do my best."

And then Carole was gone out the front door, leaving them in echoing silence.

"I don't know what you did, but somehow, you got my stepmom to like you enough to call her _Carole_."

"What can I say? Being charming sort of comes with the territory. And women are easy. They love me."

"Whatever, meerkat. Do you think you can stand to sleep a bit more? I'm torn with the coffee. My mind feels water logged but my body is protesting."

"I don't really get too wired off coffee. Especially with lots of cream and stuff. I guess I could try for another hour."

"I'll set my alarm for seven. That way we have a good window of time to make our great escape."

"Sounds good to me. Lead the way Princess."

Kurt smiles faintly, stepping away to wash out their mugs and place them in the drainer. He then flicks off the kitchen light and begins to trek toward the basement staircase, Sebastian following along in his wake.

When Sebastian nearly rams into a shelf displaying some crystal figurines that he assumed Carole probably collected, he feels Kurt steady him, slipping his hand into his as he gently leads him onward to avoid any other potential mishaps.

"Be careful," Kurt whispers. "My dad's like a bipolar sleeper. Some nights he sleeps ridiculously heavy. Other nights - not so much."

Seb nods and allows Princess to guide him, for some reason not giving much thought to the fact that the royal one himself was still holding his hand.

"So, what's a Finn? Is that like your family dog or something?"

"Something like that," Kurt murmurs as they make their way downstairs.

* * *

It happens like rapid fire.

Kurt whispering frantically for him to 'get up' and to 'move his ass on the floor.'

Right. He vaguely remembers doing so, but he ended up on the bed with Kurt. He thinks it was on the Princess' insistance to avoid the excessive pain of being on a flat, uncomfortable surface.

He isn't officially awake until he's literally kicked onto the floor and some sheets flung over him in a flurry of panicked movement.

This of course results in him crying out in pain, the only thing halting the reaction being a clammy hand clumsily stifling his mouth.

He finds himself biting down on the hand to avoid the scream tearing at his throat at the pain of having landed on the side where his bruised ribs are located.

Oh. Shit. It makes sense the moment he hears it...

"Kurt, I thought you were gonna be up earlier, bud. I wanted to see if..." And Sebastian can hear the deep voice trail off awkwardly.

"See if you wanted me to make eggs or something else for breakfast," the man, Sebastian deduces must be Princess' dad, the King of ice manor, finishes with an air of reluctance.

"What're you doin' Kurt?"

Sebastian can just barely make out Princess' face through a gap in the sheets covering him. He looked flushed, probably in pain as Sebastian was still biting the shit out of the kid's fist.

"Mmp - oh, nothing much. Just sitting up - thinking," Kurt squeaks.

"Since when did you just sit around in bed? You're always an early riser."

Kurt is trying to pull his hand away inconspicuously, but the shifting is causing Seb to roll on his bruised ribs, the pain in his side sharp, provoking him to bite down harder.

"Ow! - wow - Dad. You should seriously - um - try it. It's therapeutic - good way to start your morning," Kurt hisses through his own pain.

"You sure you're okay? You're acting kinda weird. I mean, weird even for you."

"Mmhm. Oh, I feel good. So you should just wait for me upstairs - cause I'll cook. Whatever you want. Just, um - give me a few minutes."

"Right," the King utters suspiciously. Seb, despite his pain, feels slight relief at the sound of the guy's retreating footsteps.

"Oh, and I almost forgot."

The sudden exclamation causes Kurt surprise in which he of course tugs his hand upward, Sebastian's teeth sinking further at the horrific pain making him feel like his ribs might just be splintering inside of him.

Sebastian is praying that Kurt can keep it together, his blue eyes watering and his teeth kneding his bottom lip as a coping mechanism to refrain from wailing aloud.

"About your car. You need to take it in this week. I'm pretty sure it's due for an oil change."

"Mmhm," is all Kurt can manage through his watery grimace.

"Wait. What's that?"

"What?" Kurt breathes.

"Those clothes."

"W-what do you mean?"

"Those. Over there on the floor. You don't wear t-shirts. Ever."

Sebastian is still under the covers but he can hear the shift in the King's tone. It's low, and dangerous and menacing enough to portray a promise of unadulterated ass kicking to come.

Seb breathes out, slowly releasing Kurt's hand, in which the teen takes advantage to pull away immediately, flexing it while still keeping his wide eyes trained on his father.

"Do you have somebody here? In this room. In my house - Without my knowing about it?!"

"I - I take it you didn't get Carole's note," Kurt elicits breathily.

"What does Carole have to do with - Alright who ever the hell is here, you got ten seconds to get your ass up and get the hell outta my house! Now!"

"Dad, please -"

"Ten."

"Wait, you have to listen -"

"Nine."

"You don't understand -"

"Like hell I don't! There's somebody in your room and you're lying to me about it. And you just cost the little shit three more seconds. We were at six. Now we're at five."

Sebastian somehow finds the strength to climb up, wincing himself into a standing position.

"Alright! Look - here I am. Just relax, okay?"

"Oh, oh, no. I'm gonna relax... After I kill you where you stand -"

"Dad! Stop!"

"C'mere you little punk!" and Kurt's dad stalks over to the bed, Sebastian scrambling to crawl over Kurt and get to the other side. Kurt is pulling at his Father, trying to slow him down as he claws at Sebastian like a wild animal.

"Dad - You're gonna give yourself a heart attack!"

Sebastian manages to make it to the steps where he slips, Burt reaching down and grabbing his strewn clothes from the floor.

"Now get your crap and get the hell out of my house!" He roars while chucking the clothing at Sebastian, which he hastily gathers and disappears up the steps. His pain somehow taking a backseat to the adrenaline coursing through him. The last thing he hears rumbling up the from the basement is, "And what is he doing half naked in _your_ pajama's?!" before he bolts out the front door.

He keeps his pace steady in order to get to safety, hobbling along until he makes it a few houses down and around the corner. There he takes his time to catch his breath, gingerly taking a seat on the curb, trying to ignore the lingering pain caused by his impromptu escape.

He pulls on his socks and shoes, and slowly drags his t-shirt over his head. He still has Kurt's pajama bottoms on, but the prospect of changing out of them feels too daunting at the moment, so he opts to keep them on for now. He lifts his jeans and digs precariously inside the pocket to collect his phone.

He's not surprised to see that he has more than a fair few messages, the voicemail icon blinking as if it was mocking him. He'd missed them all of course because he thought it better to shut his phone off when in closed quarters at Casa de Princess. Too much of a risk at waking up his dad... Fuck... Sebastian almost laughed at the irony.

When he clicks the icon, he learns that it's eleven messages to be exact. Groaning to himself, he begins sifting through them to try to prepare himself for whatever fate had in store for him today.

Five of them were from Santana. Seemed that she had renewed her minutes after all. Four from Brittany. And two from Simon.

Santana had mostly provided him warnings, urging him to bring his ass home, or at least call. Then that eventually turned into her using fierce explicatives he was pretty sure were likely very colorful curse words in Spanish. Brittany had mostly sounded worried and then confused. Making weird conclusions about him potentially being abducted by aliens masquerading as children. She prompted him to stay away from play grounds or the candy isles in grocery stores. Simon's first message was short but sweet. It was a clear warning that he'd missed his expected curfew and to call him back immediately.

The last one, from Simon of course, was the most impactful...

_"Seb... I don't know what shit you're trying to pull. But I promise, you'll be sorry when I see you."_

He honestly could call him back. Try to salvage at least some of the mercy Simon might spare him. But he didn't even feel like lying. He was just too worn out.

The very miniscule good news was that it was now officially day time, so he could catch a bus which would be much more cost effective than scouting a cab. He figures he can bum it in front of a grocery store or something. Maybe score enough change to get him close enough to the apartment so he wouldn't have to walk for miles.

As he slowly pulls himself up, he feels that sense of numb acceptance settle over him. He was ultimately going to have to deal with Simon and whatever bout of crazy he decided to inflict on him.

Moments like this make him wish he was still going through his raging druggy days so he could simply avoid feeling altogether. Sometimes being numb was just better.

* * *

**A/N:** I really do enjoy writing angry Papa Burt. And I love me some dobting, mother hen Carole. I always got the impression that she was just a cool ass Mom. I know Burt gets accredited for being the best dad in existance but I think Carole is equally as awesome. Good times indeed. Hope you liked it! Please shoot me some feedback and as always thank you guys for taking the time to review!


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** Hey all! I know my speedy posting has become less so. Work and life would be the culprit there. But I will continue to write and post when I can so please don't get too discouraged with the wait. So... back at the apartment. Let's see what occurs shall we? Also all the same warnings about language and some mentions of potential sexual assault. And I don't own the book I mention (which was a favorite of mine as a kid) nor the celebrities mentioned for bantering purposes. And - yep... Read on and let me know what you think. Much obliged!

* * *

Sometimes... Simon could be quiet.

He would get in these moods where talking wasn't needed, and he sort of closed in on himself and refuted any interaction for a set period.

When Sebastian finally made it home four hours later, sweaty, sore, and a resigned to whatever the cards held for him, he definitely hadn't counted on Simon being in that particular state of being.

Sebastian trumped into the apartment immediately catching his brother's eye. Simon halted his ministrations, looking stony from his position on the couch. His hard fingers pausing over the beretta he was cleaning.

Brittany was balled up on the other end of the couch, her blonde head turning away from the TV; the quick glint of happiness at seeing Seb easily replaced by a foreboding sadness. Santana was in the kitchen area, her dark eyes swimming with apprehension as she too was swept into immobility at his sudden return, halting her work on the avocado she was dicing. The dark eyes volleying cautiously between Seb and Simon.

They were both worried. They too hadn't been lost on the fact that Simon was terribly quiet, and carefully cleaning his favorite gun.

"What happened to your face?" Simon finally asks, his manner non-chalant as he proceeds with cleaning.

"Got into it with a few guys," he answers monotonously.

"Hm. Where at?"

"Just outside of the heights."

Simon shakes his head, a tinkling laugh pouring from his thin lips.

"I told you about hookin' in that area. Didn't I?"

Sebastian nods slowly. His hands shoved inside his pockets. The fingers on his right hand tracing over the silver trinket nervously, a small bull symbolizing his sign as a Taurus.

"Yeah. You did. But I -"

"But nothing. I told you so you wouldn't run into shit like that." Simon makes a point to look up, entrapping Sebastian within his cold gaze. "You look like fucking shit. And I doubt there's gonna be too many customers who're gonna wanna _fuck_ something that looks like shit. Right?"

"Simon, I -"

His brother holds up his hand signalling for immediate silence.

"That's for you to worry about. But in the mean time, you need to call me back when I call. Unless you're dead, there's no excuses. I'd have felt a lot better about things knowing that you'd already given me your cut."

Upon hearing that last part of the disclosure, Sebastian can't help but be struck by confusion.

"Cut?"

"Yeah asshole. What you owed. Santana gave it to me last night after her shift."

Sebastian looks up at the latina with disbelief. Santana's eyes are hard, watching him to see if he'd caught on. He was about to splutter out the truth, but she gave him a subtle shake of the head, imperceptible to anyone but him.

He wishes he could smile at her. She deserved at least that. But too much emotion would be a dead give away.

"Yeah. I gave it to her the other night. Just in case," he said quietly, his own jade orbs never leaving hers as he said this.

"Whatever. Just don't -" and the sound of metallic clicking fills the space, drawing his attention back to Simon who was pointing the newly assembled beretta 9mm directly at him - "do it again. A'right?"

Seb nods as Simon makes a mock shooting sound with his mouth, and chortles at the way his younger brother flinches.

"Now go clean up."

Sebastian wastes no time as he moves through the living room and ducks into the bathroom, shutting the door behind himself. He clutches the sink, looking fully into the mirror, silent tears boiling over and escaping down his cheek.

He wants to punch the mirror into shards. Rage and scream.

And then he feels it: a vibration coming from his pocket. He tentatively pulls his cell from said pocket.

**_Princess_**

The screen adorns the name, printed boldly and unwavering with each buzz.

He exhales a sigh of relief. Or more likely a gesture to regain his composure. He immediately turns on the shower as a means to cover up the sound of him speaking.

"Hey," he breathes.

"Hi. Are you okay?"

"I'm - um - yeah. I'm okay."

"I was worried. I wanted to call you right after you left but I was busy doing hours of damage control. My dad even went into work late just for the opportunity to continue grilling me. I'm so, so sorry about how he reacted. He just gets a little overprotective."

"Yeah - just a little."

Kurt laughs. It brings a smile to Sebastian's face. They both fall into silence.

"Did you make it home?" Kurt eventually asks.

"To say the least."

"Good. That's good." There's another pause. And then, "I - I think I'd like to see you again."

Sebastian huffs and then replies. "I don't know Princess. I haven't exactly been the brightest spot in your life since I've graced you with my presence."

"No. But you've definitely been the most interesting."

Again, Sebastian smiles, ignoring several bitter tears that cascade over his lips.

"I doubt your psychotic, flannel wearing daddy's gonna like the idea of you hanging around with me."

"Probably not the sleezy escort version of you. But maybe he'll come around to the PFLAG waving, victimized gay teen who's mentoring his son version."

"Wait a minute. You lied?"

"More like bent the truth. Just a tad."

"Right. Until it completely broke in half. That's a far cry from sucking strange dick for a living, Princess."

"Well Carole adores you. And that's a start. Besides you were the one who started this whole charade. So - will you be my PFLAG mentor, meerkat?"

Sebastian smiles wryly. He has to contain his potential laughter to avoid drawing unwanted attention outside the bathroom door.

"Depends. What does this mentoring business entail exactly?"

"I think it entails you answering my phone calls every now and again. And if you're feeling particularly broody, calling me on your own merit - and not just to be your personal taxi. And maybe meeting up for coffee dates some times."

Sebastian pauses. His smile growing evenly across his face. "I think that's do-able. No pun intended."

"Ha, Ha," Kurt retorts with sarcasm.

"Look Princess, if we're gonna be meeting for gay coffee dates, you need to get used to my humor."

"Fair enough. And you need to stop referring to everything as 'gay.' Why can't it just be a coffee date?"

"'Cause it sounds super gay. Or like - for man hating college chicks."

Kurt mock sighs, a light chuckle bubbling forth. He again becomes quiet.

"Please don't do that to me again," Princess then breathes, a sudden somberness infiltrating his tone.

He didn't need to say it. Sebastian knew exactly what Kurt meant. He figured it out by the meloncholy drawl that actually surprised Seb into silence for a brief moment. But he asked anyway.

"What?"

"Don't get hurt again. I don't think I can handle that."

"Aw, does the ice queen have a heart after all?"

"I'm serious Sebastian. Take care of yourself. That's another part of your mentoring duty."

The sincerity of the request was making him feel various emotions at once. It all sounded so easy, and even easier to comply with because it was Princess asking. Something about when Kurt said it, made it feel possible... As casual as a stupid, gay coffee date. Sebastian knew the truth; knew that he couldn't promise that in good faith. But he did it anyway.

"I will... I'll try," he amended.

"Okay. Um - well I better go. I need to go check in with my dad and make sure he's not planning on putting iron bars over my window and bolting my door shut. If it's any consolation, he didn't know you were hurt. I think he was too busy seeing red to be able to have noticed your injuries."

"That's comforting. Maybe he would've chosen to try to punch my face in with his weaker hand as a gift instead."

"Still - it's better than the monkey wrench he was wishing he had access to at the time."

"Yep. Probably. I'll - um - I'll call you some other time. Later your majesty."

"Bye, meerkat."

When he pushed the 'end' button and placed his phone on the countertop, he chanced a look at his face again. His eye was less swollen, but the bruising a distinct purplish. Carole had said that was a good sign. That the bruise was in the stage of the healing process when certain colors emerge. He smiled, somehow looking past the bruising and seeing a flash of a real person. But then it faded, along with his smile; the battered, used up, whore watching him with scrutiny. He shook his head and carefully began removing his clothing.

He still had Kurt's pajama pants on. But he'd been smart enough to keep them on underneath his jeans.

* * *

Simon had stepped out on the premise of getting cigarettes. This usually meant he was planning on getting high.

Brittany had fallen asleep on the couch, a light blanket tucked under her chin courtesy of Santana.

Sebastian was sitting in the bedroom, leaning against the bed frame with an open book in hand. He tried to avoid ever sitting on the bed itself. This was where Simon slept. It was his space. Sebastian was confined to the couch, while Brit and San had claimed the mattress in the living room as their official resting place.

Seb was slowly turning the page of his old worn copy of _Where the Red Fern Grows._ A book he'd discovered when he was ten years old and quickly heralded as his favorite. Many of the pages were torn and starting to oxidize and brown with age, but it never deterred him from reading it another time.

He's joined by her when he finishes the part where Billy is finally able to bring Old Dan and Little Anne home.

"Feeling nostalgic today?" She quips.

Santana has learned that about him. Just of one of his quirks that came with time. She knew that this was his 'go to' book when he genuinely needed to escape, or was heavily considering something. Usually the age old philisophical question of 'why' - but in his case, why he had the life that he did? Instead of living peacefully in a log cabin with two blood hounds and no worries.

"Guess so."

She leans her head on his shoulder.

"How bad is it?"

"Some bruised ribs. Some other bruises on my back and shoulders. Survey says that I'll live though."

"Nothing else?"

"No."

He knows why she asked. She was wondering if they'd assaulted him sexually. Maybe had run a train on him.

"It was quick. They just beat my ass and took the money."

He could feel her shift, as if she'd been holding her breath and had been given permission to release it upon hearing this news.

"Where were you?"

"You heard me tell Simon. It happened outside the heights -"

"Where were you, _really_?" She emphasizes.

Sebastian sighs. Damn. He could never get shit past her and her latina x-ray capabilities. That, and the fact that Santana had undoubtedly earned the truth anyway. And he hates owing people.

"I was at this guy's house. He came and picked me up after I got jumped and let me stay there."

"One of your pages?"

Sebastian shakes his head. Santana lifts her head in order to fully look at him. She narrows her eyes as if considering something.

"You're seeing somebody? Like - an actual non-customer - somebody?"

"No. No, it isn't like that. He's just some guy I met a few weeks back at Scandals. That's it. He's like in high school and has 'I'm a ginormous virgin' written all over his forehead."

"But yet he came to pick you up in the middle of the night and let you stay at his place?" she prounounced skeptically.

Sebastian doesn't grace that with a response.

"Did you guys fuck?" She continues.

"I just told you he's a virgin -"

"So?"

"No Santana. We didn't fuck each others brains out or commit soft petting near a roaring fire while whispering sweet nothings to each other. We didn't do anything. Okay?"

"So let me get this straight. Some random virgin high schooler you met one time, went out of his way to pick your broken ass up and let you stay at his house, and there was no sex involved? Not even a hand job?"

He definitely didn't plan on adding the part about the necklace.

"Yeah. Basically."

"And you called _him_, right?"

"Well I couldn't get a hold of your sorry ass. And I couldn't tell Brit. She can't hold water with a fucking cup when it comes to lying. Especially with Simon -"

"You like him."

"No. He's just some guy -"

"Some guy you're not fucking or getting paid to fuck. Therefore, some guy that you _like_."

"Whatever J-Hoe."

"Don't be mad because I speaks the truth anorexic Ricky Gervais."

He shakes his head with a swift grin. She nudges his shoulder playfully. His grin slides from his face however when he notes the bruising around her neck.

He puts his book down and before she can protest, fingers the bunched hoodie in order to slide the fabric down for a closer look at the skin there.

The bruising was clearly made by large hands closing over her throat.

"Simon?" He asks quietly.

"No. Just - one of my tricks got a little rough. It's cool though. I got the fucker for two fifty."

Sebastian blinks away the warmth building behind his eyes, slowly tucking the hoodie back up to recover the injury. He's seething at the notion of anyone hurting her. But his fury was mingled with a heavy sense of guilt.

"He didn't see?" Seb asks in regards to Simon.

"The good news is, is that I have make up. But for now, the heat is always acting up anyway. I just get really cold and needs my hoodie," she states pointedly.

"San, you shouldn't have done that. You shouldn't have helped me -"

"What, so I can experience the alternative? I'd rather not have you laid up for a week because your brother decided to beat the other half of your face to shit over a few fucking pieces of paper. I can handle myself -"

"Look at your throat Santana -"

"Look at your face!"

She stood up angrily, then looked out the door, remembering that Brittany was still asleep in the other room. She pressed on, her voice tone considerably lower.

"So I took on a few more tricks last night. You're saying you wouldn't have done the same for me?"

She's got him there. He'd practically do anything for the girl. He remains silent.

"I didn't think so. You're welcome. Just don't make me have to do it again," and she storms from the room, leaving him feeling flustered and very alone.

* * *

**A/N:** Grace me with your thoughts. It definitely means a lot to me to get your guys feedback. Please and thank you!


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N:** This one came out of nowhere, even as I was writing it I kept thinking where is this leading me? I think it ended up becoming a chap focusing on Sebastian and Kurt's growth, friendship, whatever you want to label it. So I owns none of this except the usual, not the Power Rangers or the french language (which by the way I apologize if I messed up on the translation I just googled that bad boy - I am no linguistic proprietor or master of the foreign tongue... that sounded dirty). So, mentions of a sexual situation/content (not with Kurt, sorry!), strong language.

* * *

He considered himself a fucking master at giving head.

Seriously... He'd blown so many flesh sticks over the years that he'd figured out how to apply the perfect blow job like a good kisser figured out how to provide the perfect kiss. There was a science to it. A journey of sexual favor that for him, started at the ripe old age of thirteen.

It was being in sync with what made the other person breathe faster, moan harder, lose their wording completely. It was testing the waters with a subtle caress, a dance of both anticipation and application of every portion of your mouth. It was a combination of diligence and tentativeness that only a well practiced mouth could manage.

It was the art of knowing your audience.

Sebastian was good at that: knowing his customers. Hell, knowing people really. He could read them, identify their quirks and their deepest desires sometimes within a five minute conversation. It was all in the words that they didn't say, the looks that they gave, the language of their body...

He couldn't use his body. Not in its current state of injury. Plus he'd told Carole that he'd take it easy. And he'd sort of promised Kurt that he wouldn't put himself in potentially risky situations if he could help it. But if he didn't work, he risked dealing with Simon. Which sadly felt as unsafe as any back alley transaction with a stranger.

So he'd settled on a compromise.

He would use that well practiced mouth to blow his way to meeting his quota. Sure it essentially meant dealing with a higher quantity of dicks, but it also gave his body the time needed to heal a bit so he wouldn't have to fuck for his earnings.

He received a text message right at the moment that Angelo, an overweight widowed deli owner who'd lost his wife a few years ago came in his mouth. Well, came inside of a condom over the dick that was currently in his mouth. Seb had at least some standards.

Sebastian felt the vibration of his cell through his jeans as Angelo grunted through his orgasm. Seb, being patient, pulled his mouth away only when Angelo had worked through the spasms.

"Good baby. Good job," Seb croons with a lick of his lips.

"Mm. Yeah. It was good. You were good. You always are Sebastian," Angelo growled while letting Seb remove the condom and then zipping himself up. "Your mouth is ten kinds of wonderful."

"So I've been told."

There was a pause. Angelo taking his time to look over Sebastian as his breathing gradually regulated.

"You gonna tell me what happened to your eye?"

"You gonna give me my money?"

The large bellied, jovial man chuckles heartily at Sebastian's playful deflection.

"You sound like my wife used to."

"She sounds smart."

"She was," Angelo states, flicking his wallet open and thumbing through a wad of cash. "She was smart, gorgeous and knew how to put up with my shit."

Sebastian smirked widely, then felt his face fall slightly.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Shoot, kid."

"Why - why do you see me?"

Angelo's thick eyebrow curls toward his brow line. "Are you serious?"

Sebastian nods, his curiousity mounting.

"You're good at what you do. You always leave me a little lighter that's for sure."

"Yeah but - why not just get a girlfriend or something?"

"You kids and these god damn labels. A blow job's a blow job. What I had with my wife... Love? That's more than just a fix of flesh kid. You feel more, you are more. I'm too old to try to find that with someone again. But I'm lucky enough to say that I had it once."

Angelo slips several bills into Sebastian's hand.

"Wait - this is way more than you owe me -"

"No it ain't. It's exactly what I owe you. Take care of yourself, kid."

Sebastian nods benevolently. He then steps out of the gray Lincoln, watching candidly as the older man crept away, rounding the corner with a smooth turn.

He flexes his jaw, feeling oddly introspective, and then pulls out his cell.

It was a text from her majesty himself. His smile is annoyingly automatic at this revelation.

**_K - How goes it mentor?_**

Sebastian glimpses the time on his phone before proceeding. It was a quarter after one in the afternoon.

_**S - Aren't you supposed to be learning some shit right now?**_

It only takes a few seconds for a response to filter into his screen.

_**K - If you want to call senior seminar class learning... I just call it a free period.**_

Sebastian can't help the tug at the corner of his lips. Princess having any inkling to be anything less than pristine was slightly bewildering... but kind of an intriguing thought none the less.

_**S - I don't think I would be a good mentor if I didn't advise you to pay attention and do your work.**_

_**K - Did somebody forget that they're not actually a mentor?**_

The replies became quicker from there.

_**S - I'm just trying to salvage your virginesque view of life. Your purity is weirdly attractive to some. Namely hammered gay gorillas who have no sense of personal space. Plus I don't wanna be blamed for completely corrupting you.**_

_**K - Please... I felt that way about this pointless class eons before we met. Don't take credit where it's not due. And virginesque? Not a real word. :)**_

_**S - You just emoticon'd me. Sooooo gay!**_

_**K - ... -**__**_-**_

_**S **__**- A'right fine. Semi-gay.**_

_**K - I'll accept that. You're getting better. Or at least more tolerable.**_

_**S - My favorite thing to be.**_

Sebastian is suddenly hit by the strangest urge that seems to take command of his fingers.

_**S - So when do you get out of school?**_

_**K - About 2:30. Why?**_

_**S - Are you hungry?**_

_**K - You aren't secretly my dad? I am talking to the meerkat right? What's with the third degree?**_

_**S - Not answering the question is gay.**_

_**K - Oh my Gaga! Please stop with that! Sure. I missed lunch today so I could stand to eat.**_

_**S - All the better for you to meet me. How about that crappy Italian place off of Mainor. Breadstix.**_

There was a noticeable pause in their exchange. Sebastian immediately reprimanding himself for being a presumptuous ass. What in the good _fuck_ was he doing?

_**K - Yeah. 3 ok?**_

He feels himself inexplicably relax before punching in a response.

_**S - Yep.**_

_**K - Ride?**_

_**S - Princess. How inappropriate! You know that I'm an injured man... They could revoke your crown for this!**_

_**K - In my car you crazed sexual deviant. Would you like a ride to the restaurant in my vehicle?**_

_**S - Just meet me there. Now go learn and make your mentor proud.**_

_**K - I can't promise to learn. But I'll fake it just for you. ;)**_

Sebastian shook his head with a firm smile, quickly dialing the usual cab company he used for transport. Angelo's ridiculous tip was going to be put to good use.

* * *

They had avoided the dinner rush since it was still early enough in the afternoon to be considered lunch. Sebastian had gotten there early, sipping from his water glass contentedly until he caught sight of a pale brunette waltzing toward his table with a flourish.

"Early, huh? Didn't expect that," the new arrival announces.

"Sometimes it's good to expect the unexpected sparkles. I got you a water. Thought that was probably the safest bet," Sebastian states as he nods at the water glass with a thin lemon slice adorning the edge sitting at the opposite end of the checkered table.

"Merci."

"Avec plaisir."

Kurt smiles slyly as he sips from the water glass in a graceful manner reminiscent of his name sake; a true Princess type gesture.

"Hm. An international prostitute. What are the odds?"

"Slim. Especially in Ohio. But apparently possible."

"Que dois-je sais pas pour vous?" _(What else don't I know about you?)_

"Beaucoup de choses. Vous n'avez qu'à demander." _(Many things. You just have to ask.)_

"Okay. I'll start with how do you know French?"

"Books mostly. But you know - audio tapes from libraries and stuff."

"You just decided to learn French on a whim?"

"Basically. I wouldn't call myself an expert but I can hold a conversation. Let me guess. You just learned because it was a requirement."

Kurt lightly traces his finger tip over the edge of his glass, his blue eyes trained on the motion of his hand.

"When I was little, I'd see all these fashion magazines with European influences. All the male models looking all picturesque and just... different. I used to think that France was some magical place that I would somehow make sense in. At least in comparison to low rent cow town, Lima. So I figured I'd better learn the language if I was gonna make it there."

Sebastian grins, watching this shy version of Kurt with interest.

"Childishly stupid and virginesque thinking, right?"

Seb shakes his head.

"No. It makes sense. It's a lot better than my reason anyway."

Kurt looks up to meet Sebastian's eyes. "What's that?"

"Because it sounded nice. I liked the idea of sounding upscale. That I had words in me that were better than my - um - occupation. Words that surpassed what I am."

Kurt observes Sebastian with a thoughtful gleam, again bringing his water glass to his lips. He was being too open with this kid, too vulnerable.

"Plus speaking it helps some of my regulars cum faster."

Kurt chokes on his water, struggling to regain his composure through his coughing fit. Sebastian leans over and pats him on the back, covertly relieved that he'd turned the tides away from the acutely solemn flow of conversation. Dialogue was better when it was light. When it didn't dig too deep. Less room for disappointment.

"Jesus! Simmer down sparkles. You okay?"

Kurt's gasping decreases, and he looks up at Sebastian with a callous expression.

"Could you please try to forgo the mention of bodily fluids while we're in a public place?"

"Why? Public places can be the most fun locations for fucking."

Kurt's expression remains frigid.

"Fine. I'll censor the mentions of fuc- fun, things involving the flesh."

"Thank you."

"You seriously can't be this uptight."

"It's not me being uptight. It's just rude."

"Uh huh. Says the ice queen basking in his virgin glow."

Kurt pinches the bridge of his nose while Sebastian chortles. This was more like it. This was safer.

"Why not segway into ordering on that note. What're you having Princess?"

"Probably a salad."

Sebastian blinks. "That's kind of -"

"Don't you dare say it!"

He bursts out laughing, Kurt eventually following suit. He can't remember the last time he'd genuinely found something funny. It's a reinvigorating feeling.

They spend the next few hours talking and laughing about mundane subject matter over their food. They both learn that they were in love with the Red Ranger from the Power Rangers. That they both have a secret appreciation for country music that they never acknowledge publicly. That they both were observed as being pretty intense, independent minded children who learned to find some semblance of joy in being alone. Kurt was because the other boys and girls didn't quite get him. Sebastian because he just wasn't allowed to be around other kids. He didn't explain it that way of course. He just chalked it up to constantly moving, which wasn't really a lie. Either way, they both understood what it was like to be ostracized.

He learned that Kurt's dad was comically named Burt. That he attended McKinley high school where the only thing remotely worth his time there was some crap called a Glee club. That he played football as the kicker for a few months and gave the football team its first official win in over two seasons. Sebastian mostly asked questions, listened, and locked away every detail in his mind rolodex.

When Kurt finally announced that his dad would be expecting him back and that his excuse of conducting an impromptu shopping date with some friend of his named Mercedes wouldn't hold him past six o'clock, Sebastian noted the kid's obvious air of reluctance.

Truthfully, he felt the same way. Though saying so aloud ultimately didn't sit well with his ego.

Sebastian snagged the check before Kurt could grasp it, read it over, and counted out the amount needed to cover their meal plus a sizable tip.

"What're you doing?"

"Tanning. What does it look like I'm doing?"

"I have my own money."

"So do I. Hence me using it now."

"You don't have to."

"Yeah - Well, there's a lot of things I have to do that I don't want to. Think of it as you giving me the opportunity to do something I actually _want_ to do for a change. I'll even be grateful."

Kurt seems like he's about to protest, his mouth partly agape as if the words are just on the tip of his tongue. He sighs heavily instead.

"You really are an interesting character. Thank you. It was nice."

"Whore's gotta eat too."

"And then you go and say things like that -"

"My charm knows no bounds."

"Can I at least pay you back with a ride?"

Sebastian is dying to turn that statement into some form of sexual inuendo. Instead he simply says, "Nah. I'll catch a cab. Get home before daddy smells my scent on you and comes hunting."

Kurt grimaces, but then it easily transitions into an adorable smirk. Fuck... Did he just think of the word 'adorable?' What the shit?

"I'll call you," Kurt confided softly.

"I'll answer. Maybe."

And Kurt retreats, leaving Sebastian wondering if he had just experienced what taking someone out on a real date actually felt like.

* * *

**A/N: **Sebastian's acting weird. Like all considerate and encouraging. I think Kurt brings that out in him. :) I'd love to hear what you guys think. Reviews keep me soldiering on. Especially when I push through sleepiness to get a chappy knocked out for your viewing pleasure (*cough, cough* - this chapter).


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **Holy hell fire this one was a doozy to write. It's long and pretty angsty. But I hope you enjoy it. We get a few more familiar faces joining us this chapter. And please note: I've decided pretty much as I wrote this chap, that Kurt's back story is gonna be a bit different from Glee Season 2. For example, **(Spoiler alert! that really shouldn't be one cause you should've watched it by now)** Blaine doesn't exist in this universe, Karofsky never threatened to kill Kurt but he did kiss him, and Kurt and Mercedes stayed tight. I really liked those two as friends in the show and was admittedly sad when they sort of drifted apart. With that, please read and review!

* * *

**_K _****_- Fun fact: I thought I was in love with my step brother._**

This message causes Sebastian pause. The merciless taunting he could dispense at this revelation is insurmountable. But this had become an exercise of trust between the two of them. A way to learn each other without eliciting judgement. It was a sort of game that Kurt had suggested the very next day following their 'date.'

Everyday, they were each supposed to reveal an unknown fact about themselves, or rather a "fun fact" as Princess had dubbed it. Sebastian has no clue why he agreed to this cheesy ice breaker activity that Princess probably got from an internet prompt or some shit.

But he does...

And now here he was, like every time before, wondering what he should actually reveal in return. He's on the roof of his apartment building, tucked against the wall, pinching a cigarette between his lips as he sorts through his memories. None of them felt congruous or fun loving. Unless he mentioned something sexual. But again, that wasn't suitable for the Sparkled one. He demanded more than Sebastian's facade; something that Sebastian had decided somewhere between their exchange at Breadstix and the first round of this damn game.

**_S - Fun fact: I have no blood related family except my older brother. I doubt that he loves me._**

He immediately wants to erase it, but something possesses him to hit the send button.

By the time they'd met up again, this time over coffee much to Sebastian's chagrin, his bruises had all but disappeared and Kurt was watching him with careful eyes that were bright with unspoken sympathy.

His coffee was luke warm by now, and Princess was absent mindedly stirring the contents of the tall caramel frappuccino that he'd ordered while simultaneously gazing at Seb.

"Will you just ask already."

"Ask what?"

"Ask whatever question's got you staring at me like I just witnessed my puppy get run over."

"It's just - today, earlier - you..."

"I what, Princess?"

"What you said. About your brother. Why?"

"Why he's my brother? Only some higher power knows the answer to that one. Or did you mean why I feel like he doesn't love me?"

"The latter, smart ass."

"We have an interesting relationship. We'll just leave it at that."

Kurt doesn't look satisfied with that answer but he wisely lets it rest.

"So your family pet - Finn? You liked him?" Sebastian inquires as a direct means to change the subject.

"Before we'd officially become a family. Yeah. I used to be sadly infatuated. But in retrospect, I think it was just because he was the only attractive jock who didn't throw me in a dumpster."

"You wanted to be with him because he was the only one who didn't treat you as _shitty_ as the rest?"

"It's twisted, I know. I just - he was different. He was sweet and he actually listened to me and didn't go out of his way to put me down. It was nice."

Sebastian suddenly felt sad for the pale teen. Turned out that Seb wasn't the only one who had a warped sense of whatever love was supposed to be.

"I'm no expert at this shit. But - You know that you're better than that, right?"

"W-what do you mean?"

"I mean - you're better than that. Settling for some asshole - not calling your pet an asshole - but, you like, deserve a dude who wants you equally. Otherwise that's like the equivalent of being content with a guy who just beats you on Tuesdays and Wednesdays instead of everyday and being cool with it. It's still fucked up."

"I can say the same to you."

"How do you figure that, Sparkles?"

Sebastian felt himself grow anxious. He hadn't told Princess the extent of Simon's interaction with him. He didn't know about the details. Like Simon being his pimp for one. For two, the fact that he'd seen the back side of his brother's fist a fair few times throughout his life time.

"Don't you want something else for yourself? Something else besides..._ escorting_?"

Kurt presses on upon noting Sebastian's incredulous expression.

"You're really smart. You're driven. And you really do have a way with people -"

Seb snorts sarcastically at those particular words. Princess again hastens on.

"I just wonder if you know how honestly great you are. Because you can't want only this for yourself. There's so much more that you could be doing - "

"Like what? I have no education -"

"So go back to school - "

"No, I mean like, _no_ education. As in I've never stepped foot inside a school my entire life except to pick up tricks."

Princess seems stunned into speechlessness at this revelation.

"Your brother never made you go to school?"

"He _kept_ me from going to school. He kept me from everything that didn't involve him and making money. Look - I don't wanna play this game anymore. Okay?" Sebastian spat with augmenting ferocity.

"Sebastian. You don't have to get upset -"

"I'm not upset. I'm just tired of doing this. Doing this dance with you. What's the fucking point?"

"Wha - I don't understand -"

I'm some washed up whore who's completely content with being exactly that. And you're some fairy Princess with rose tinted glasses who's five steps out the door to San Francisco or New York or some other gay friendly place that isn't here. Let's just stop pretending that whatever this is - isn't gonna end the minute you graduate or just get bored of me. Maybe we should just save each other the trouble and quit while we're ahead."

"Sebastian - What are you doing? Don't leave! -"

"I gotta go. Don't follow me," he warns as an after thought as Kurt had stood up as a reaction to Sebastian's sudden upheavel. Sebastian stalks toward the door while Princess watches him tearfully, his blue eyes brimming under the subtle lighting.

Sebastian makes it around the corner from the coffee shop before he slows to a stop.

"What the fuck did you just do?" He curses himself aloud. That wasn't supposed to happen. He's not even sure where it came from.

He reaches in his pocket in order to pull out his pack of cigarettes. His fingers brush against the now familiar necklace coiled in the bottom of his pocket. He started to perceive it as a good luck charm of sorts. Some luck that shit brought today...

* * *

It was a Friday afternoon when he found himself waiting outside the school.

He'd gotten a couple of flirtatious double takes from passing females, batting their eyelashes and giggling behind their hands as they passed.

He also got various angry glares from some of the male student body; mostly letterman jacket clad jocks.

Sebastian simply smirked as he troved through the throng, cigarette dangling from his lips as he genially marveled at the innocence of high school life.

As he marched forward, he overheard a particular conversation that piqued his interest.

"Yeah they got him over there again."

"What that fag kid? Hummel?"

"Yep. You think they'd give that shit a rest after a while -"

"Hey!" Sebastian interrupts causing the two jocks to look over. "Where?"

"Where what, dude? Who the fuck are you?"

"Where. Is. Kurt?"

"Over by the gym. Back of the dumpsters."

Sebastian speeds off, tunneling through the random bodies and practically bolting to the specified destination. It didn't take long to locate the gym, the building was big enough. He slows his pace, slipping over casually to the small group gathered near the dumpsters, cigarette still trailing smoke as he inhales.

" - and we're overdue already. So let's just save some time and you can climb in. No throwing necessary," a squat jock with a sharp face was saying.

"Why don't you morons get a life. My boy isn't goin' in no dumpster and I'd like to see you try to get past me!"

"Mercedes, don't -"

"We're not above throwing a chick in there. Might need a little extra muscle for your fat ass but we can manage -"

"Okay, that's it!"

The rotund black girl named Mercedes attempted to dive at the jock, Kurt wrapping his arms around her to hold her back.

"Hey!" Sebastian calls out. Kurt looks up with wide eyes as he approaches. For the moment, Seb only has eyes for him.

"Fuck are you dickwad?"

There were four of them. Fuck - why was it always four? Well at the least the difference here was that these were a bunch of overzealous insecure teenagers as opposed to a group of thirsty addicts at the end of their rope. The odds already looked better there.

"Just somebody who doesn't like the way you're talking to my friends over there. Probably be best if you just walked away."

"Ah. I get it. This your faggot boyfriend, Hummel?"

The three others laugh. Except for one, who seems outwardly uncomfortable, and also looks oddly familiar... The realization causes a crafty smile to emerge as Sebastian flicked his cigarette butt calmly.

"Bear cub. How are you?"

"Um - w-what?"

Sebastian had indeed recognized him. He knows more than he probably should about this particular heavyset figure standing in the back of the pack. And judging by the way the bulky kid looked like he was on the verge of blowing chunks, he had recognized Sebastian too.

"Yeah. Bear cub. How you been man? Almost didn't recognize you. Different lighting and all."

Everyone falls silent as their eyes find Bear cub; the kid's hazel orbs shifty with panic.

"You know this dick kissing fag stick?"

Bear cub is shaking his head frantically, looking petrified.

"Hm. I could be mistaken. I tend to get confused sometimes with all the faces I come across," Sebastian relates cooly. He then canters over, strategically placing himself in front of Princess and his friend.

Without warning he reaches out and grabs the lead shit talking jock by his balls.

"Ow! Shit! What the - fuck! Ow! What the hell dude?!"

Sebastian squeezed tightly and drug the kid toward him, his cronies looking at a loss for what to do.

"Call your dogs off or I'll squeeze your kid makers into paste."

"Josh, man!" One of the dude's yells out, clearly looking for instruction from their befallen leader.

"H-hold off - Move back!" Josh squeaks out through Sebastian's vice grip. They abide reluctantly, looking perturbed and helpless at Josh's position. Bear cub seems to be the only one fanning back without any sense of apprehension, his full face shining with sweat and nearly colorless.

"Now. Joshua. You and your fucktard friends will find another hobby besides bothering Kurt and his friends. If you don't. I'll be back. And I promise I won't be as nice."

He then pushes the jock away from him with fervor and quickly flips out his switch blade to bar the other jocks from descending on him.

He holds up the knife, picking at his nails nonchalantly as the group of jocks looks torn.

"Let's just go," Bear cub finally exclaims. He helps the Josh kid to his feet and they all back away, muttering curses and warnings until they disappear around the side of the building.

Sebastian clicks his switch blade back into place and slides it inside his pocket. Princess and Baby Oprah are staring at him with equally shocked dispositions.

"I think you just became my new favorite white boy."

"Mercedes, right?"

"And you're the one Kurt refers to as the meerkat?"

"I'm sure endearingly so."

She gives him a gradual once-over, and then a curious smile breaks over her face.

"Well you did those bitches a favor. 'Cause they'd have been worse off if they would've had to deal with me."

"You'll get no argument from me on that one."

Kurt was still silent, blue eyes volleying between the background and Sebastian with a clearly mutinous inner dilaogue holding him in a state of dormancy.

"I was gonna call. But I figured I'd have a better chance to catch you if I just came up here -"

"What do you want?" Kurt emitted coldly. Even Baby Oprah looked slightly taken aback by his vehemence.

"To see you. And to um - you know - talk. About what I said last time."

Mercedes seemed apprehensive as Kurt's iciness began to give way to a forlorn detachment. She seemed to settle on something though as she gently touched his shoulder causing him to meet her eye. He gives her a nod, a wry smile then settling over her pouty lips.

"I'll let you two talk. Mr. Meerkat," she bids with a careful drawl.

"Baby Oprah."

"A'right. I'm 'a pretend that you meant that in a good way. And because Oprah's the most powerful black woman on the planet. You get a pass. But don't think you're the only one who's willing to cut somebody around here. Okay, white boy?"

"I'll keep that in mind. Thanks."

"Mmhm," she sing songs and then addresses Kurt again. "Call me later?"

He shoots her a reassuring grin. "Yeah. I'll call you when I get home."

"You better. 'Cause if I don't hear from you by five I'm calling Burt. Bye." She warns pointedly as she walks back toward the quad area, Sebastian presuming it to be a short cut to the parking lot.

They're both silent, Kurt still finding it difficult to directly meet Sebastian's gaze.

"I was wrong. How I acted."

"You think?"

Sebastian sighs. "Look - it isn't easy for me. Letting people in. I've spent my whole life pushing them away. Being their fantasies. I don't know how to just be - _me_, with anyone."

Kurt looks up then, his blue eyes wary, but firm. Sebastian takes this as a sign to continue.

"I don't even know who I am outside of what I do. You getting close - it scares me."

"Why? What are you so afraid of?"

"The obvious Princess. You shouldn't be friends with me, or even know me. I wanna save you the disappointment because I'm everything that's hard, and wrong and dark about life -"

"No you're not," Kurt says softly, his pale hand reaching up to cup Sebastian's cheek. "You're not. You're funny. When you're not being an asshole. And sure you use beer bottles and knives to get your point across - but I know that it's because you care. Whether you use your words or not. You've practically taught yourself everything you know including a foreign language, which shows more discipline than any other person I've ever met in my entire life. You're... You're just Sebastian. Not Seb, some male escort with no conscience. I like Sebastian the most. Don't keep him from me."

Now Sebastian is the one having trouble maintaining the Princess' unwavering regard. He eventually pulls Kurt's hand from his cheek, lacing their fingers together as he recaptures the blue orbs in a strong hold.

"W-would you come somewhere with me?"

"Where?"

"I'd like to introduce you to my - um - family."

"To your brother?"

"No. To my _real_ family. Will you come?"

Kurt nods stiffly, his eyes looking bright with moisture. "Y-yes. Of course I will," he breathes.

"Okay. Cool."

They begin to walk away hand in hand. A few steps in, Kurt suddenly halts.

"Karofsky - the one you called Bear cub. Do you actually know him?"

"Lets just say I'm pretty acquainted with his man parts. Stubby. But nice gerth."

"Oh sweet perilous Prada, please tell me that you didn't have sex with him?"

"Relax, Sparkles. It was just a blow job. Kid was too scared to do anything else. He's a classic example of a self hating closet case."

"He was also my first kiss." Kurt admits off handedly. "Although it was by force so I don't know if I should count it."

Sebastian stiffens, his hold on Kurt's hand becoming tighter along with his jaw which was suddenly feeling reminiscent of a steel trap.

"It wasn't like that exactly - It's just - he used to bully me. Relentlessly actually. One day I confronted him when we were alone. We were screaming at each other, throwing insults around like water. And then before I knew it, he was kissing me. He still gave me shit afterward of course. Had to put up a front I guess to erase it for himself. That happened my Junior year. This year he's been acting different. Sort of apathetic and removed from his jock clique. He mostly just tries to avoid me at all costs. Guess today was just bad timing. I'm not complaining though."

"He probably realized how big a card you hold over his head. Scared you might just play it on him if he gives you a reason."

"Well it's not in my nature to out people. Not even the most deserving. Anyway speaking of complaining, I'll drive because I don't do public transportation. The close proximity to random people and the noxious combination of smells just does unspeakable things to my complexion -"

"And there she is. Welcome back your majesty."

"Shut up."

"As you wish, my liege."

Princess giggles in response. Sebastian thinks he feels his heart actually flutter like some fucking rainbow colored butterfly. Crap...

* * *

**A/N:** I try not to act too hard up when it comes to getting feedback, but I can't lie. Reviews are like to crack to me like make overs are Kurt's crack. It makes me feel like the story is worthwhile enough to keep going and dedicate time to finishing. So for those who may be digging this fic, lay some words on me. Thank you to those who've continued to do so. All of you are like magical rubies that shine in the moonlight that's bathed by the waters of lake minitanka. Chappelle's show anybody? Lol. PS - Fun facts is something that I made up with a friend. It actually is a cheesy yet cool and unorthidox way to get to know someone. It's interesting what people are willing to share with just one sentence. Who needs a whole conversation when I can just get a daily fun fact? Sexual ones being the most fun...


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** The hiatus was loooong, I know. I'm sorry about that. My busy meter has been off the charts lately. Everytime I tried to make time to write or more correctly I thought I would have time I was bombarded with work crap or just life in general. Anyway my apologies. I will definitely try to be better about getting some chaps up sooner my dears. Thanks as always for the continued support via reviews, favs, etc. Fulfill me with your thoughts.

* * *

Sebastian was starting to wonder if he'd made a mistake.

Her dark eyes had never felt so disconcerting as she canvassed the two of them with a sharp smirk that felt laced with poison.

But while Santana was analyzing the new comer with a fine tooth, intimidating comb, Brittany was exuding the exact opposite: a child like fascination that lit her whole face up with wonderous ease as she stared up at the pair from her spot on the floor.

"Fuck - do you guys wanna pay admission or what?"

Santana's smirk seemed to spread sinuously across her lips.

"Silence Sebastard. We're just getting to know your new friend here."

"What by melting him with your uncomfortable high beam stares?"

"It's fine Sebastian," Kurt affirmed.

"Yeah. It's fine Sugar tits," Santana mocked."So kick back and let us inspect in peace."

"You're really pretty," Brittany marveled as if Princess was in fact bona fide royalty.

"Thank you."

"You look like you're made of snow. Like a pretty snow angel. And your hair looks soft. Can I touch it?"

"Um - sure."

"Brittany -"

"It's fine," Kurt directed at Sebastian.

Kurt leans down in order for Brittany to graze over his neatly coifed hair.

"San - it's as soft as it looks. Like cotton candy. But brown."

"I bet," her sly smile somehow elongating even further.

Sebastian was torn, but sitting here was only adding to his urge to throttle Santana. He releases a heavy sigh and saunters over to the kitchen area, pulling the fridge open for something to do.

"Can I interest you in a beverage during your interrogation?"

Kurt looks up, a hint of nervous energy seeping through his cool demeanor.

"Er - what's on the menu?"

"We got beer, tap water... capri suns -"

"Those are my favorite," Brittany adds.

"Oh. I used to love those. My favorite was the Pacific Cooler."

"That's the kind we have!" Brittany regales excitedly, a very awed disposition resulting from the coincidence. "You should have one."

"I think - I suppose I will. Thank you Brittany."

"Welcome," she beams, a slight rocking motion overtaking her as she continues to stare up at Kurt as if he was honestly the most gorgeous thing she'd ever seen.

Sebastian can't help the grin tugging at his lips as he pulls a capri sun from the pack. Seb whistles to get Kurt's attention, then throws the drink package over to him.

Princess catches it, Brittany clapping at the successful motion.

"You can catch. And you have soft hair. And your clothes are like boy and girl clothes put together. They're pretty like your face is."

"Maybe I should come here again. I could definitely stand to be complimented like this more often."

Santana sneers, her dark eyes roving over the full lips now puckered over the thin yellow straw sticking up from Kurt's favorite child hood juice drink.

"Hm. A _catcher_, huh? No wonder Seb likes you. But no matter how good of a catcher you may be - which judging by your lustrous lady lips that weirdly rival mine I'm sure you're probably marvelous at being - You're the first catcher worthy of a home visit. So I'm curious, lady lips. Why you?"

"Maybe _this_ is the reason why these impromptu introductions never happen -"

"Hush, Gervais! You owe me silence. And you know you do," She stated pointedly.

Seb huffs and waves for her to continue while plopping on a chair at the kitchen table, pinching the bridge of his nose to ward off the headache he felt beginning to pulsate.

"Your guess is better than mine."

"Copping out?"

"No. I just can't answer that question. I can hasten a guess."

"Hasten away Lady."

"I amuse him."

"So do some of his Johns. But you don't see any of them here."

"I'm not those other guys. I'm not here for any sexual favor or to use him to feel better about myself. The amusing part is that I think he knows that. Well, maybe he does. That I just like being around him. And that I don't want anything from him."

There was a considerable silence at the exclamation. It was said so casually, but Sebastian felt as though it might as well have been a marriage proposal. Seems that Sparkles wanted him to know that their acquaintanceship wasn't about anything but the friendly company. Maybe that he thought that Seb was more than just some wounded puppy or an ego boost. He smiled inwardly at the sincerity of the remark.

"Aye Dios Mio! You are seriously a flaming after school special burning a sparkly trail across our carpet."

"Thanks?"

"You're welcome," Brittany supplies giddily.

Sebastian can't help but bark his laughter which causes Kurt to also chuckle. Santana's smirk actual began forming into what looked to be a genuine smile at the reaction.

"Weird. I think I also find you amusing. For now anyway. Plus your lady lips distract me from the bubbly fag speak oozing from them and make me want to make out with you."

"Totally," Brittany concedes.

Princess' blush is tapering across his cheeks. Sebastian clears his throat and slides next to Kurt on the couch facing the two pirahna.

"They are hard to ignore aren't they?" Seb agrees playfully while staring at the full lips, enjoying the goading causing Sparkles to shift uncomfortably.

"You're not helping," Kurt retorts, his flush glowing against the pale skin.

"Now you look like a snow angel that someone colored with pink crayon."

"My dream come true," Princess drawls sarcastically in reply to Brittany's observation.

Sebastian makes eye contact with Santana. They communicate silently; a form of exchange that they had learned to master over the years of relying on each other and to avoid potentially triggering an outburst from Simon.

_I guess he's alright. Just be careful._

**_I always am._**

_You know what I mean. Don't get in too deep with this kid. He'll never understand our world._

**_It isn't like that. He's just... different. I like him for that._**

_My point exactly. Protect yourself. Don't be a moon eyed moron._

Seb nods as if they'd been speaking aloud. He knew that she was one hundred percent right about Kurt. That what he was doing with him was completely against everything they've ever predetermined. It was against the informal rules long ago set in order to maintain their self preservation and to remain remote and unscathed by the outside world. They weren't supposed to get close to anyone outside their immediate circle. A John stayed a John. Simple as that.

But Princess...

He was different. Because he wasn't a John. And he wasn't interested in being one apparently. He just wanted to be a... presence. No angles, no strings attached. Amused doesn't feel like the right word to describe it. But it's probably the safest.

There was a point where the air of discomfort had dissipated and Sebastian didn't feel like he was sitting on broken egg shells waiting with bated breath for Santana to shoot piercing barbs meant to scratch at Princess' pale, perfect complexion.

It melted away with each covert smile the little fairy managed to coax from the Latina; siphoned into a misty vapor with every squeal of delight from the enraptured blond.

Sebastian eventually found that he had forgotten where he was. That his heart had been blinded by the good time and the walls making up his impenetrable facade were weakened.

His heart was unfortunately veiled by a false sense of security...

Fuck his stupid heart to hell and back... At least that's what he thought the moment that the sound of the door knob twisting caused him to jerk his neck so hard that he nearly dislocated it.

Santana had said that Simon had made plans to be out till after eight. It couldn't have been half past five. But Simon always had a way of keeping them on their toes with unpleasant surprises.

Fuck. Why had he brought Princess here?

The instantaneous silence would've been comical if it didn't illustrate the strained suspicion of certain danger to follow. The way Simon's eyes drug over each face so carefully, and very painfully slow over the new addition. Sebastian's heart couldn't make up its mind if it wanted to beat itself into cardiac arrest or just completely burst inside his chest.

Seb knew that look. A flash of fury that ebbed into curiousity, then a lust filled greed that was somehow powerfully scarier than that trained gaze filled with absolute rage.

"Seems we have a guest."

A statement, not a question. The slight smirk a velvety disguise that easily fooled those who didn't know Simon as his hand slipped through his messy brunette spikes of hair.

"Um - yeah. Simon this is -"

"Kurt. Kurt Hummel," Princess pronounced. An edge to his voice signalling an inkling of trepidation. Kurt wasn't completely naive it seemed. He hadn't missed the way the mood had immediately shifted upon the other man's entry. It was difficult to miss Sanatana's icy disposition return ten fold, and Brittany's sweet smile deplete into an awkward grimace; her green-blue eyes finding a home on the carpeted floor.

"Right. Kurt. Here for a tea party?"

"N-no. Kurt just stopped by for a bit. He was just getting ready to leave," Seb supplied.

Kurt caught Sebastian's eye, then nodded at Simon in confirmation.

"Yeah. I'm leaving. Just stopped by for a quick chat. Um - it was lovely to meet you ladies."

Santana simply nodded. Brittany quietly breathed, "Bye Kurt."

"I'll walk you out," Sebastian started, standing to usher Kurt out.

"Please. Don't rush off cause I'm here. I'd hate to break up the party. Kurt is it?"

Princess nods mid standing position.

"Sit."

Again, there was no request present. Kurt slowly eases back on the couch, Sebastian's mind whirring in hopes of cinching ways to explain this away.

Simon has found a seat at the small dining table. His leather jacket removed and thrown over the back of the chair opposite leaving his heavily tattooed arms exposed. That same smirk that held something unnerving in its depths still lingering. Seb didn't like that look at all... And he loathed how it was fixed steadily on the Princess.

"Friend of Seb's?"

"Um - kind of."

"Must be a pretty strong kind of. The fact that you're here speaks volumes. We don't really have people over. Ever." The last word was practically hissed out like a snake; a warning really.

"I-it was spur of the moment. I wasn't planning on staying actually -"

Simon held up a hand, immediately silencing Sparkles as if he was a trained dog in some upscale dog show.

"Don't minimize, Kurt. It's never a becoming trait. So did these guys treat you to the grand tour? Make sure to be good hosts?"

It was a loaded question. Seb's face felt tight with the strain of wanting to speak, find the perfect words to dispel this whole situation.

"They were fine."

"Good. I'm glad. It was probably a bit of a surprise to them me coming home early. I'm usually not done with work until later."

Sebastian had to purse his lips tightly to avoid snorting aloud at that idea. When did drug dealing and random gambling become considered actual work?

"Glad that wasn't the case though. I would've hated to have missed meeting you."

Sebastian didn't like this. That careful smile aimed at Kurt cloaked with a sense of possessiveness that Seb easily recognized from his brother.

"Thank you. Um - I really should be going though -"

"Boyfriend would be worried I suspect."

"N-no. Actually, my dad. He'll probably wonder."

"Hm. Right. Wouldn't want that. I'm sorry, but I have to say... I'm really surprised there's no boyfriend."

"Oh - er..." Princess' face was reddening as he trailed off uncertainly.

"You're quite the beauty. Gorgeous really. With a hint of some underlying feist no doubt. It's refreshing."

Words of grandior being sewn together, weaving themselves into a thick rope waiting to slide around the Princess' pale throat as if it was some gaudy pearl necklace.

"Yeah, well - Kurt's gotta be getting home. His dad'll be pretty pissed. I'm walking him out."

His gaze was locked on Simon's as he said this. Simon simply tilted his head slightly, an obvious interest in Seb's behavior. He just wanted to get Kurt out of there. Whatever happened, he needed Kurt out of there.

"Of course. Please feel free to stop by again Kurt Hummel. You're definitely welcome here."

"O-okay. Um - bye," and Kurt stood awkwardly, Sebastian stalking toward the door and practically throwing it open allowing Sparkles to glide through it first and then pulling it closed.

As they made it down the stoop and onto the sidewalk Sebastian exhaled.

"Keep walking Princess. Don't stop."

Surprisingly, Kurt didn't argue though he seemed caught off guard by Sebastian's sense of urgency.

"So that was your brother? Simon?"

"Yeah. That was him in the flesh."

"He seems... interesting."

"To say the least."

"W-what's wrong?"

"Nothing. I just want you to go home."

"I can see that. Sebastian. Sebastian - stop!" Princess ordered coming to a halt as he eyes Sebastian, obviously looking for an explanation.

"Kurt. You need to go home to your dad. He's gonna worry. And you need to call Mercedes because I know that's she's probably on the verge of calling the swat team at this point."

It's silent as Kurt's perfect eyes narrow, his tongue rolling over his bottom lip in consideration of the taller boy.

"Are you pushing me away right now?"

"What? No." But he can't seem to look at him. Sebastian's eyes are settled on an old wad of gum flattened on the edge of the curb as the words spill automatically from his lips.

"I don't know what the hell that was upstairs. But this feels a lot like you pushing me away."

Sebastian remains quiet, his fingers subconsciously caressing the chain of his Taurus necklace piled deeply in his pocket.

Kurt moves forward reaching out to touch Sebastian's cheek. Seb lets him, closing his eyes for a brief moment as he lets the touch envelope him. Then he remembers where he is, knows that his brother could be watching him from the window and immediately pulls back.

He didn't miss the hurt look that flashed across Princess' face, but then it was replaced by a cool disposition that Seb easily recognized. That same indifference that defined Sparkles when they had first met at that fucking shit hole bar.

"What are you not telling me?" Kurt whispers.

Sebastian meets his eye then. God his heart is fucking pumping so hard it seriously might just explode. What was he not telling him? Enough shit to write a fucking novel and then some.

"I - I..."

Kurt waits, cutely biting his lip in anticipation.

"I need you to go home. Please Princess. I'll call you. I'll even come by again. Just please... Go home to your dad."

Kurt opens his mouth to retort but he's apparently too caught in the throws of surprise by what probably sounded like a sadly pathetic plea.

"Okay. Call me. I really want to talk."

Sebastian nods and watches as Kurt traipses over to his car, throwing one final look of longing over his shoulder before climbing in. He drives away while Sebastian stands on the sidewalk, wishing that it would just swallow him up.

When he turns back he sees his brother leering by the front entrance of the apartment building, puffing on a cigarette.

Sebastian reflexively swallows, and then saunters toward Simon, all the feelings of walking toward a promised execution bubbling within.

"What I don't get - what absolutely baffles me, is why you would bring home some kid knowing that we have a strict rule about _never_ bringing anyone here."

"It's not like that. He's just some guy who helped me out. He was in the neighborhood and I thought -"

"You thought that you could bring him here for fucking milk and cookies?"

"It was just for a few minutes. It won't happen again."

Simon laughs derisvely, a trail of smoke floating out into the air.

"You fuckin' him?"

"He ain't a John if that's what you're getting at. You know I would never do that."

"But yet and still, there he was. Sitting on my couch like he's done it a million times before-"

"He was only here this once. That's all. I swear."

"You swear? On what little brother? You swear to God? The holy spirit? Whatever entity takes pity on whores and the tainted scum that is our little union? Swearing to me is the equivalent of pissing in my mouth and calling it kool-aid. It doesn't go far with me."

Sebastian's fingers are tight around the Taurus in his pocket.

"Anyone. I mean _anyone_, is a threat. No matter how faggy or nice or pretty they may be. We've been here for a while. Matter of fact, this shit stain of a town has been our longest stop. Stupid shit like that move you just pulled, can jeopardize everything. In all honesty, I have the right mind to put a bullet in your fucking foot for being so god damned stupid."

Sebastian is ducking his head, not daring to make eye contact. Not when he knew the worst was coming.

"But - No harm, no foul."

This causes Seb to look up, the movement resulting in a coarse chuckle from Simon.

"I actually wouldn't mind seeing his face around here again. That kid would make good company. You agree?"

_No._

He wanted to scream it. But the simple word that had readily formulated in his mind just wouldn't reach his lips.

"It won't happen again," is all Sebastian can manage before he brushes past his brother. He had been expecting to be nursing a black eye, maybe a few cigarette burns or a broken jaw. He would've expected and accepted any of that.

Any of it was better than this strange state of unknowing. Anything was better then being at the mercy of his brother's mind fucks, waiting helplessly to see what depths of emotional shit he was planning to drag you through.


	10. Chapter 10

It never came.

The vow of absolute restriction, verbal assaults and promises of anguish through potential physical abuse. It never came.

But he could feel it. With every rut of his body against a stranger. Every drop of sweat mingled with cum sliding over his slickened skin. Every quiet smile projected across the room perched on his brother's lips for Sebastian's plain view. Every furtive glance Sebastian bestowed on his phone when it signalled a new text, only to note Simon's amused face watching him...

Something in his body felt Simon plotting.

He'd known his brother all of his life after all. Simon had been around the block twenty times over and in his thirty four years on this planet, he'd learned to excel at manipulation like a fine tuned athlete training for the Olympics.

Simon had become increasingly quiescent, settling for grunts of approval and swift smiles as opposed to his regular raucous, deplorable nature. A whole week had gone by without any threats, physical outbursts, or unintelligible rants prompted by the familiar white powder to Simon's Dr. Jekyl.

It wasn't exactly unwelcome. Santana and Brittany weren't complaining that's for sure. Neither was Sebastian per say... It just didn't feel right.

A feeling that went into overdrive the day that Kurt admitted something that immediately caused Sebastian's skin to crawl.

"You what?"

"I spoke with your brother."

"When? How? Better yet, why?"

"Whoa. Slow down sweetie. I'm only one man with only so much attention span. One question at a time. He contacted me the other day."

Sebastian could practically hear his own heart beating.

"How did he get your number, Kurt?"

"He said he got it from you."

Sebastian shook his head. "No. He didn't."

His mind is relentlessly cruising any ways Simon could've gotten it from his phone. He had been extra careful to keep it with him at all times due to his rising suspicions as of late and... Shit. The day that Brittany had found Seb's phone stuffed in between the couch cushions. Simon probably swiped it while he was showering and planted it there under the guise of Seb accidentally 'losing it,' when he fell asleep. Simon knew that Brittany always went couch fishing in the morning. A sport she made up during her stint as a recluse with Mister. An ironically sad method of sustaining her sanity and sometimes feeding herself if Mister forgot that day. She was bound to find the phone, almost as if on cue.

"I don't want him talking to you at all. Why didn't you say anything about it?"

Kurt sat up a little straighter, his eyes shining curiously at Sebastian over their small table in the corner of the coffee shop.

"I forgot honestly. I didn't think it was a big deal."

"What did he say?"

"Just that - he thought that I was nice and that he thought it was a good idea that I hung out with you."

"He, what?"

"He said that even though he can be really overprotective -" Sebastian snorted incredulously here - "that he wants you to be able branch out and have a friend. That you need that since you normally shy away from people."

Sebastian's laugh was overrun with disdain. Kurt continued with a peeved expression.

"He also apologized if he'd come across as intimidating when we met."

"Go figure. And what did you say?"

"I said - I said that I care about you and that I'd be happy to look out for you. That I wanted to."

"Oh, Jesus."

"What? What's wrong? I thought you'd be happy to know that your brother seems to be approving of me. Especially since you said you guys don't really get along -"

"Kurt. Just - Don't talk to him anymore. Okay? I don't care what he says to you."

"Why? He seems to really want you to be happy-"

"Kurt. Please. Trust me. Don't talk to him anymore. Promise?"

"I - I..."

"Promise, Kurt."

"Okay. I won't."

They fall into a bitter silence. Sebastian hates it, but he can't help but acknowledge the splinter of relief that floods through him following the exchange. Kurt however looks crestfallen, and it makes his heart do funny, uncomfortable things.

"Hey. Princess. C'mon. Look at me."

Kurt looks up briefly, then casts his eyes away in a state of what seemed to be exasperation. He releases a dismal sigh and then proceeds.

"I can't help but feel like - like I'm always doing something wrong when it comes to you. Like I'm saying the wrong thing or doing the wrong thing and it's driving me crazy."

"Well you're not. It's not you. I told you before. I just come with a lotta shit on my plate. You're great, Kurt. Honestly," and he punctuated the remark by covering Kurt's hand with his own over the table.

He trembled at the thought of getting any gayer. Because damn... This had to be the bench mark for twinks everywhere.

Weirdly enough, when Sparkles mouth began to twist into a perfectly trusting grin, any prenotions of gaydom were long forgotten. Or rather, they just didn't seem to matter. Not when pit against that look; a countenance fused with a sense of good fortune and the simmering arise of utmost joviality.

He's saying it before his mind catches up.

"I have an idea that I think will cheer you up. But we'll need a good cover."

* * *

A 'good cover' had somehow turned into the accompaniment of a stout, mouthy black girl giggling perpetually and squealing every few seconds at the prospect of enjoying her first 'gay night out' with her best gay.

She was supposed to serve as Kurt's cover in case Burt asked any questions. But then that had turned into her demanding to go along with them, and threatening to rat them out if they didn't adhere to her demands.

Kurt was ecstatic. Sebastian was irritated.

Which didn't help when being sweet talked into the back seat while those two carried on like idiotic, queeny gossips; Kurt allowing Mercedes to reach over and mock smack his arm in between guttural fits of chuckling from her secured position in the passenger seat.

"Could you pipe down? Holy shit I think my ears are bleeding from the squealing alone."

"Oh, hush up white boy! I'm just excited that my man's getting out and I get to finally be exposed to the other side of the rainbow tracks."

"Kill me now."

"Sebastian. Be nice," Kurt warned with a poorly hidden smirk. "This is Mercedes' first true experience intermingling with the gay community and I'm happy to oblige her. So stop sucking those sour grapes, sit up, and put a smile on your face. At least for me."

Sebastian rolls his eyes and shakes his head at Princess' choice of words.

"I already had my fill of grape like objects for tonight. Maybe I could give it a break. For you."

"Thank you."

"Quite welcome your majesty. So, Baby Oprah. How's about I buy you your first round. As acting ambassador of the straight gay gap bridging alliance group, or committee -"

"PFLAG," Kurt interjects.

"Right. I feel like it's the least I can do."

"Mr. Ambassador. I think I'd like that. Or should I say, Sebassador?"

"I think Assbassador's better," Kurt counters.

"Definitely the latter. Sparkles?"

"Yes, please."

"Cool. Ladies. Gay times await you at the shittiest little gay bar in town."

When they arrive minutes later, Mercedes is automatically taken by the drag queens. She's completely star struck by the one dressed as Diana Ross and kept finding reasons to get close enough to observe without actually interacting. Easy to say that she was thoroughly fascinated by the glittery fantasy world of made up gays.

Three drinks in, she was amicably chatting up Diana, also known as Deonte by day, and Kurt was speaking with Tommy as he baby sat whatever fruity drink had his face looking coral kissed.

"I'm telling you kid. Back then we couldn't even look at a guy for too long without worrying about being strung up. Trust me when I say I've lost more than a few friends to people's misplaced self hate. And if it wasn't someone gay bashing their heads in, it was the silent killer."

"Cancer?"

"Nah. Tommy's talking about the gay disease. Also known as AID's," Sebastian explains as he tips back his beer.

"I can't believe they used to call it that. The 'gay disease'. How demeaning. And..." Princess paused, apparently searching for the perfect describing words to signify his absolute outrage. "Ridiculously fucking stupid."

"Ooh. Watch out Tommy boy. You got Princess here mad enough to sully his beautiful, virgin lips with a curse word."

"I'm serious. It's complete bull shit!"

"There she goes again -"

"It never ends. It's like - the ignorance just transforms itself each decade. Whatever new cause they can rangle up to try to keep gay people in their place. Back then it was our supposed sole responsibility for the AID's epidemic. Today it's denying marriage equality."

"Yeah but there's been progress. It has gotten better. According to this old bastard, people were lining up to persecute gays with more than middle finger salutes. We're talking bats and actual 'to the death' beatings. On a regular basis. That isn't as prevalent anymore -"

"See that's what all you young guys think. My generation shed blood for you guys to be able to hold hands without getting your faces beat in on sight. So you can have your fag fests and pick up parades openly. Don't take it for granted. And definitely don't forget it."

"I can't. You won't shut up about it every time we're in here."

"Suck my cock you bent bastard!"

"Not even for an even hundred, you bitter, antique salad tossin' queen."

Both Tommy and Sebastian pause, Kurt looking a little uncomfortable at where this discussion had gone.

When they burst out laughing, Kurt breathes a sigh of relief and downs the rest of his fruity alcoholic beverage.

"I'm gonna go make sure Mercedes doesn't get mistaken for one of the Supremes and find herself stowed away in Diana's purse. I'll be back." Princess scoots off the bar stool and saunters over to his friend who immediately throws her arm around his shoulders upon his arrival.

Sebastian chuckles at the two's antics, returning to his beer as his mind wanders to the ones that he found the same sort of comforting physical affection with: Santana and Brittany. He wonders if they were already back home from their night on the beat. He wonders if they were safe; if they'd had an easy night... with no hard up clientel who couldn't handle the word 'no.' Or had short changed them, leaving them to deal with the mercies of Simon.

"Just my luck that you'd be here."

Seb looks up, a sneer gracing his features upon the realization of who was plopping down on the bar stool next to him.

"What're you doing here, Bear cub? Thought your closet ate you."

"Fuck you. I just wanted a drink."

"Hm. Right. At a place teaming with men upon men looking for... You guessed it: other men. That's not gay at all."

"Shut it, Sebastian! I just - I needed to get out, okay? Leave me the fuck alone."

Sebastian licks his lips. He feels the urges of his other half begin surmounting. Seb, his conniving whore alter ego, overtaking him.

"Is that all you need. Judging by how wound up you seem, you look like you could use something else."

Bear cub flicks his eyes away, avoiding Seb's suggestive gaze. Lowering his head just enough that the bill of his worn baseball cap shields his eyes from view.

"I don't want that. Not from you."

"Suddenly too good for a BJ, Cubby? I could spare you a hand job if you can manage to keep from blowing chunks. Oh wait - I get it. Maybe you need it from somebody else. That's it. Let's figure out who would fulfill Cubby's selective needs."

"Stop."

"How about the bald guy with the arm cannons. Nice grade."

"I said stop."

"Not your type. Totally get it. Or that dude. Or should I say that 'gal'. He is in drag after all -"

"Shut up."

"There's the nerdy down low type. That guy Brad's pretty kinky. I mean I would know since I've fucked him plenty of times-"

"Shut the hell up!"

Seb can't help himself. The knowledge that this cowardly asshole had hurt Kurt; had kissed him against his will and thrown slanderous insults for the amusement of his homophobic buddies was causing him to surpass his limit. Out of nowhere, his eyes land on the very subject of his thoughts.

"Or how about him," He taunts as he gives a subtle nod over at Kurt. David's face goes completely blank at recognizing the figure happily carrying on with the small group of drag queens and Mercedes. Seb's chest swells with triumph, tightening gleefully at the downcast expression of his counterpart.

"The one you treated like complete trash just to keep up appearances. The one you stole that kiss from because you couldn't get it any other way."

"I - I didn't - wha - whatever that fag told you, it isn't true."

"Oh, Cubby. You forget who you're talking to. I'm the whore who had his lips wrapped around your cock before. You can't lie to me."

Bear cub apparently was exerted past his limit as well as he pushes Seb bodily off the stool in one well measured motion. He took an uncoordinated swing which Sebastian barely ducked in time and then tackled into him toppling over a nearby trash can.

The bar seems to become enveloped in silence except for the distinct sounds of their grunting and tussling.

"Damn it Seb!" Tommy roars while snatching Sebastian away from Cubby. Another stalky Bear pulling David onto his feet and pinning his arms back.

"Hank. Keep this one over in the corner till he cools off. I got this one," he nods at Sebastian while pushing him toward the back of the bar.

Sebastian squints at the flourscent lighting assaulting his eyes upon entry into Tommy's box ridden office. He rubs at his lip, tasting the familiar copper flavor meaning it'd likely been busted open during his scuffle with Cubby. He laughs derisively, finding the entire circumstance pretty comical.

Tommy however isn't laughing. He turns on Seb, glowering dangerously.

"What the fuck is wrong with you boy? Huh? Why do you _always_ have to start shit in my bar?"

"Keeps it interesting. Don't you agree?"

"Damn it! No! I don't. I let you come here to help keep you off the streets. Because I'd rather see you pick up your fuckin' tricks here then get killed out there selling your ass like you aren't worth shit. And you repay me by starting fights and chasing off customers. Those people are my livelihood. They keep this place open, and food on my table -"

"They're mine too."

"Oh, really? Could've fooled me since you're too busy punching your way through the zip code to actually pick up anybody."

Sebastian is breathing heavily. Like he'd just run a marathon. But the words escape him with every silent exhale.

"That boy in there. You know his head isn't on straight. He's scared. Lonely. And probably looking for a friend. What you did - what you're doing, is making another statistic out of him."

Sebastian looks up, but doesn't say anything.

"Just another closet case who ends up splitting open somebody's skull. Maybe even slits his own fucking wrists because he wasn't fully accepted at maybe the one place in his whole world that might give him the strength to say 'fuck everybody else' and be himself."

Tommy huffs, then continues.

"If you want to be a molly coddled little prick who wants to fuck his way into forgetting who he ever could've became once upon a time, then fine. But don't you dare let your jaded world view taint these people. Don't you dare look down your nose at them for daring to be more. Even if it's for a single night."

Tommy strode to the door, turning around to address Sebastian as he pulls it open.

"Some nights, I hate that I care. But I do. I just wish that you would too," and Tommy slams the door closed behind him, leaving Sebastian drowning in flourescent lighting and the echoes of his own demons chanting noisily in his head.

He brushes away the few tears that burn and cascade down his cheek furiously. Fuck him. Fuck Tommy for pretending to care about him... For noticing how little he cared for himself...

When he finally re-enters the bar, everyone has returned to their drunken chattering and fruitless banter. Everyone except the duo who're standing at the far end of the bar looking anxious.

He immediately catches Princess's eye, who doesn't hesitate to rush over and throw his arms around him.

"What were you thinking?" He mumbles into his shoulder.

"I wasn't. I was being stupid. Where's Bear cub?"

"Still talking to Hank."

Mercedes has joined them now, watching Sebastian with an air of caution akin to a Mama bear waiting to pounce should signs of trouble start brewing.

"I didn't mean to put a damper on your night, Baby O."

Her scowl slowly recedes into a lackluster, but much less chilling grimace.

"I don't know what happened. All I know is that Dave Karofsky - supposed homophobe jock extraordinaire - is sitting in a gay bar looking like someone told him he could never set foot on a football field again. I hate to say it given his history with Kurt, but I actually feel kind of sorry for the guy. I mean, now all that 'fag this,' and 'fag that' stuff makes a whole lotta sense."

"And now he has three people in on the biggest secret of his life," Kurt adds morosely.

Sebastian inhales and releases the breath while marching forward, Kurt and Mercedes trailing closely behind.

"Hank. Can I talk to Bear cub?"

The large man looks up, glaring at Sebastian questioningly.

"Don't think so, Seb. I think you'd better just leave it be."

"I just wanna talk. Dave. Please, man. I only want to talk," He pleads to the Bear cub himself, causing the teen to fiddle nervously with the brim of his baseball cap.

Finally he answers. "A'right. Let's go outside."

"Now that ain't happenin'," Hank announces as Dave stands up in order to lead the way out.

"We'll supervise, Hank. Scouts honor," Kurt states imploringly.

"Yeah. Plus I'd like to see this twig try to claw his way through me," Mercedes trills playfully while pointing at Sebastian. "I'd sit on him and drive his boney ass into unconsciousness before he could lift a finger."

Hank shakes his head, running his hand over his beard thoughtfully. Then mutters, "make it quick. And be back in here in the next five minutes or I'm coming out there."

Dave nods and leads the group out the front entrance, stiffly leaning against the wall once they make it outside.

"So - we're outside. What the fuck do you need to say?"

"It's simple. I was being an asshole. I shouldn't have let it get that far."

"It doesn't matter. Everybody's gonna know about me by morning anyway."

"What're you talking about, David?" Princess asks.

"You really think Jones is gonna keep this shit to herself? And obviously you couldn't bother to keep your mouth shut either since this dick knows about the kiss -"

"The kiss? What kiss? Uh-uh, what's he talkin' about Kurt?" Mercedes haughtily inquires.

"Yes. I told Sebastian after he told me about your other... _indiscretions_ with him. But I shouldn't have. It wasn't my place to do that-"

"Wait! Hold up! You told Meerkat and not me? I'm your best friend-"

"But best friend or no, you couldn't understand that Cedes. The sanctity of someone coming out is so beyond precious and fragile. I only told Sebastian because of him already being in the know so to speak. It wasn't for me to say otherwise. Please understand."

She opened her mouth as if she was going to retort, but then resorted to huffing and pointing her finger.

"Cause I love you. I'll pretend to get it."

"Great. Now that we're all done making Mercedes feel better can we get back to my life as I know it hanging by a fucking thread!" Dave blusters.

"Look Karofsky. Would I love to take this info and make your life hell after everything you've done to Kurt, not to mention the glee club? Sure. Will I - No. It's not in me to be that viscious. You'll just have to trust me on that. No matter how ruthless a person you are. No one deserves to have that choice taken from them," Mercedes explains as nonchalantly as a weather report.

"But I better find that come Monday, you're doing everything in your power to exercise your self restraint. I don't want no slushy facials, or fag speak, or any of that crap from you. No more. I know you can't control what those other punks do, but you damn well can control yourself. Understood?"

Bear cub gives a timid nod. Looking a lot less like the world was crumbling at this feet.

"And I want a drink. Like - right now. Then my lips are officially sealed."

Dave actually smiles at this, and more surprisingly, offers his arm. "What're you having Jones?"

She begins to spout off something about a mixed drink that Kim Kardashian apparently promotes before disappearing inside the bar arm in arm with Bear cub.

"Well. That was interesting," Kurt's tone courting obvious disbelief.

Sebastian grins, then pecks Kurt's lips in a hasty motion. Kurt's eyes widen.

"What was that for?"

"Just thought you could add that to the list of interesting shit that took place tonight. C'mon. Let's go in before we have to physically pry apart the wonder twins."

"Yeah. Okay," Kurt conceded breathily, gradually making his way back inside the bar after Sebastian.

* * *

**A/N:** I had fun with this one. I enjoy verbal griping and banter galour and dug the opportunity to have at it in this one. Sure it's been getting a little light hearted these last few chaps but it will eventually seep into darkness. Oh it will! There are many things I don't own here that I mentioned, one being Kim Kardashian. Just throwing it out there. Reviews give me the strength to go on, to be strong, to carry on... yada, yada, yada... aka - hook me up with your thoughts. I'm curious to see what you think of the direction it's going and just any general feedback is quite adored. I liked the idea of having Dave become more involved. I always had a soft spot for the dude. And Mercedes is levity in its truest form. Tommy is my elderly gay delight who has a grip as strong as his mustache. All fun folks to write.


	11. Chapter 11

How did he let this happen?

He looks in the rearview mirror, shaking his head at the drunken mess that was Princess sprawled out in the backseat, mumbling incoherently about Kate Middleton being unworthy of the Princely affections of the staggeringly beautiful William.

Mercedes is giggling uncontrollably in the passenger seat. Seatbelt thrown haphazardly behind her back as she slumps forward.

"Calling you both light weights would be a serious understatement."

"You're jus' sayin' that 'cause you're jealous," Kurt slurs.

"Totally," Mercedes agrees. "He's not on our level, babe."

"Nope. He's sober. And boring. But your serious face is so cute," He mocks as he sits up and pinches Seb's cheek.

"Hey. Sit back before I drive us off the road."

Kurt gives an awkward salute with a sly grin. "Yes, sir." Then bursts out laughing at his attempt to remain stoic.

"Fuck. I knew I should've stopped you at number three. But you kept insisting that it was nothing but watered down juice -"

"With low calories. How could I resist? They were just - sooo, good."

"So, good. Like a gay pride parade in your mouth," Mercedes conceded.

"Exactly. Pride. In my mouth, Sebastian."

"I'd love to hear you try to explain that one to Burt. Bet he'll love it."

"Sebastian?"

"Yeah, Sparkles?"

"I feel sick."

"Do you need me to pull over?"

"No. I jus' - It's all spinny -"

"Lay back down Princess. We're almost there. Just don't move so much. And keep one of your feet on the floor. It'll help with the dizziness."

"Kay." Kurt slips back into the seat, lying back down as instructed.

"Hang in there, Kurtie," Mercedes says soothingly. Then takes liberty to roll down the back window partially in order to give Kurt some air. After several moments of him shuffling in order to get comfortable, Kurt seems to have passed out, his breathing becoming even.

"And how are you Baby Oprah? Feeling okay?"

"Buzzed. But a good buzzed."

"Good. So have you thought of your story, yet?"

"I texted my dad ten minutes ago. I ate some bad shell fish after the movie and needed some time to flush out my system and rest up to feel better."

"Damn. You're good."

Mercedes flashes a cunning smile. "You know it."

They fall back into silence. Sebastian is contemplating turning on the radio when Mercedes' tired voice erupts the stillness.

"So you like him. Right?"

"Who?"

"Obama. Who do you think?"

"Princess?"

Mercedes nods as if addressing a two year old. Sebastian rolls his eyes.

"Yeah. Why else would I be putting up with being your designated chauffeur?"

"Cause you like him as more than a friend."

Sebastian feels his eyes narrow.

"You're drunk."

"You're crazy. Crazy to think his best friend wouldn't notice. I was watchin'. I saw how attentive you were -"

"Because gay guys are gropey with zero boundaries. And Princess is all delicate and shit, and isn't good at saying 'no'-"

"And the way you kept watchin' him. And not like I'm lookin' out for you kinda watchin' either. Like an 'I find you beautiful, please come sit on my lap' kinda look -"

"I look at everyone like that. I flirt. A lot -"

"Which I saw none of tonight. Matter a fact. The only interaction you had with anyone else was punchin' Karofsky. Which we've established had everything to do with Kurt."

Sebastian's grip on the steering wheel had compressed, his knuckles whitening. He looks back over his shoulder. Kurt appears nearly comatose with the exception of his chest rising in rhythm with his shallow breathing. He returns his gaze to the road, forcing out a breath in order to steady himself.

"He never told you who I am. Did he?"

"Yeah. He told me that your some PFLAG stud who goes to a different school and likes his privacy."

"Right."

"I know that ain't the truth, though. But he didn't tell me any more than that. So, I didn't ask."

Sebastian didn't know why he actually cared. He was perturbed by the rapid increase of his heart beat. Who was this chick, anyway? Nobody of importance to him. Not really...

But there the words were. Right at the tip of his tongue.

"I sleep with people for money."

She's obviously flummoxed by this disclosure judging by the way she opens and then closes her mouth.

"Oh."

"Yeah."

Mercedes grows quiet. Her eyes trained on the passing scenery outside the passenger side window, most likely trying to make sense of that last statement. Or attempting to keep the bile enclosed in her throat knowing that her virginal friend had been exposed to some disgusting street walker.

"I take it you want me to have nothing to do with him now."

She looks over at him then, as if gauging her next words carefully.

"It'd be easy for me to say that. But that ain't my style. I try not to pass judgement on others. No matter what. It's not my business what you do on your own time. It's only my business when what you do effects him. But in the mean time, you make him smile. So to each their own, meerkat."

Sebastian finds himself exhaling a lengthy breath of condensed relief that felt heavier than brick piled on his chest. It did matter what she thought. Because Kurt mattered to him. No matter how he tried to slice it or will it away. Kurt mattered.

"Thanks, Baby O."

"Anytime Twiggy. And here's my stop."

She hesitates for a moment, then leans over and kisses him on the cheek. She then slides out the front seat and makes quick work of pulling the back door open, bending over in order to whisper in Kurt's ear, and then brushing a chaste peck across his high cheek bone.

"Take care of him."

"Will do."

And Mercedes struts toward her front door giving Sebastian a quick wave before slipping inside.

Sebastian thankfully has a good memory. It came with his job he was sure. Having to remember locations. Street corners. Landmarks. His mind was like a mini google maps it was was so efficient.

Eventually they arrive safely at Kurt's house.

He takes a moment to ruminate over his options. He couldn't leave Princess in his car. He definitely didn't think it wise to ring the bell. The only option left was to somehow sneak his highness inside and slink out before provoking the wrath of one, Daddy Hummel.

"Man, Princess. You're so gonna owe me for this one."

Four minutes, two near tumbles, and eight curses later, Sebastian is fumbling with the keys, desparately trying to avoid making too much noise as he twists the key in the lock while holding Princess upright against his body.

Kurt is semi-conscious. At least enough to be on his feet and allow Seb to guide him inside the house; his arm slung over Seb's shoulder and his normally graceful gait tragically levelled to a mere dragging schlep.

Princess leans into him, his breath tickling Sebastian's neck.

"Mm. You smell good."

He licks his lips, willing his cock to not get hard at the sensation ghosting across his skin at the gesture.

"I smell sober. Now, c'mon. We need to get you downstairs -"

"Can we get water first?"

"Can I get you to bed and then come back? Priorities Princess."

Kurt lolls his head just enough to meet Seb's eyes and puts on his superbly adorable pout that probably got him anything he wanted from his gullible Daddy. Princess indeed...

"Please?"

Sebastian hesitates, then pulls Kurt toward where he remembers the kitchen being. He carefully deposits Sparkles on a chair, blindly feeling his way around until he locates the fridge. He pulls it open in order to luminate the darkened space. There was no way he was risking turning on the light so this would have to suffice.

"Where are your cups?"

"Cabinet to your left. Top shelf."

Even in his state of inebriation, Princess still knows his shit when it comes to organization. Seb would chuckle if his body wasn't so fucking tense with anxiety that the slightest giggle would probably burst an organ. He manages to procure a cup and notes the Brita water pitcher inside the fridge.

As he's pouring, he tried to observe Princess through the shadow. He smiles at the sight of the brunette drooped over the island counter top with his face pressed unceremoniously into the tile.

"I would take a picture of this moment if my hands weren't full."

"That won't be necessary."

And the lights flick on revealing none other than Daddy Hummel.

Papa Burt quietly observed the scene, looking no less menacing in his flannel pajama pants and t-shirt then he did fully clothed and adorning his signature baseball cap.

It had to look bad: Kurt sprawled out over the counter top, groaning and clearly sauced... Sebastian going through Burt's fridge, pouring Burt's water, in a cup that surely belonged to Burt.

"I'd imagine I'd be able to keep this image in my head for a long time. No camera necessary."

The sound of liquid splashing on the floor causes Sebastian to swallow his heart back down and regain his senses. He'd filled the cup till it was overflowing and sloshing water onto the floor.

"Oh. Damn. Sorry."

"How is it that I always seem to run into you under these kind of circumstances?"

Sebastian breathes, "pure luck on my part."

"Is he drunk?" Burt asks with a stiff tilt of his head at Princess.

"Um - well-"

"Daddy. I feel, very happy right now." Kurt somehow manages to straighten up and toddles over to Burt, sloppily throwing his arms around his neck.

"So happy. Sebastian's gettin' me water. Isn't that sweet?"

"Well, that answers my question. You -" He looks up at Sebastian with a death glare that epitomized instant murder by eyeball, "Wait here. If you leave before I'm back. I'll track you down. And every minute I waste having to find you, I'll make up on your face. Slowly, and very painfully. Got it?"

"Y-yes, sir."

"Good."

"Daddy. Where we goin'? Why's Sebastian not comin'?"

"He's saying good night, Kurt."

"Oh. 'Kay."

It was obvious Burt was trying to pull Kurt away, but if anything, Princess could be unequivocally stubborn. Hence his stiffened posture as he catches Seb's eye across the room.

Sebastian clears his throat.

"Good night, Princess."

"G'night, Mr. Meerkat. I really love you. A whole lot."

If Burt's glare wasn't already cleaving a hole in his chest before, it was certainly kicked into overdrive by that statement. Was it actually possible to be run through with invisible eye daggers?

"C'mon, Kurt," and he ushers Kurt out of the kitchen and down the basement stairs. Sebastian's heart is hammering. It was so loud. Somebody had to hear it. He knows he definitely could.

He doesn't dare take a seat, instead opting to wipe up the mess he'd made with the water pitcher. He grabs some paper towels and quickly cleans up the spill, all the while willing his heart to slow down.

As he's throwing the paper in the trash, Burt re-emerges, the muscles of his arms taut as he keeps them clutched over his chest. Sebastian was waiting for the moment when Burt's knuckles found a pleasant home on his face.

What happens next though is completely unexpected and can quite possibly be considered miraculous.

Burt expels a weighty sigh before speaking.

"It's hard to be a father. But it's really, really hard to be a father of one of the only openly gay kids in a town full of small minded, ignorant people with so much bigotry it could light up a Christmas tree. They never wrote a handbook on how to do that. So sometimes... Most of the time, I struggle. Struggle with how I can keep him safe against the whole rest of the world. He's my little boy. And the one thing I can do for him, is be there to keep him safe. Because we sure as hell can't talk sports. So before, when I chased you out, I may have overreacted... Because I physically can't stand the thought of him being hurt or used... I guess, of growing up either. He's all I got left of his mom. And I'll be damned if I let that sort of light, that specialness, suffer and get dark. I won't let that happen."

Sebastian feels the tears stinging his eyes, but he remains calm, fists relaxing at his sides as he watches Burt ponderously. He knows that what Burt's saying goes beyond scolding him for a having a few drinks. Beyond being some PFLAG mentor leading his kid merrily down the rainbow brick road, or giving the standard Papa bear schpiel about protecting their kid's virtue...

"So you tell me kid. What's your angle with my son?"

Seb feels the words jumble, catching in his throat. This wasn't about any of those things. This was about his kid's heart. Which is a ridiculous notion to Sebastian. He wasn't worthy of holding Kurt's hand let alone being invited into his heart.

He clears his throat and proceeds, not really sure what combination of verbage is going to leave his lips.

"I - I don't know sir. It's weird I guess. But I sw-" He stops, thinking of Simon's response to him using the word 'swear.' He changes course.

"I like being around him. That light you're talking about. I see it. Everytime I'm with him. I don't want it to burn out anymore than you do. If anything - I want to protect it too. As long as Kurt'll let me."

"So... Are you, um - boyfriends or, uh - something?"

"No."

Sebastian thinks to himself of what Kurt would actually label their relationship. His own uncertainty causing him pause.

"I'm his friend. A friend who would be lucky to be more. But I can also accept that I'm probably not what's best for him. Or even deserving."

Both sets of eyes are trained on the other, cautious, and full of question. Eventually Sebastian exhales and steps forward.

"I, um - I better get going."

"How are you getting home?"

"Walking. Then probably catch a cab part of the way."

"Hm."

As Sebastian brushes past Burt, he pauses when he feels a clap on his shoulder. The grip isn't painful. Just solid enough to arrest him from retreating.

"You can take the couch. The least I can offer after you got my kid home safe."

"I don't think -"

"I wasn't asking, kid. Take the couch. But stay. On. The. Couch. My heart can't handle another surprise sleep over in the bedroom. A'right?"

"O-okay."

"I'll get you some blankets."

Sebastian wasn't sure, but he thinks that he had somehow reached some kind of strained but fully existant understanding with Burt fucking Hummel. The Ice King hadn't stabbed him through the heart with a shard of ice. At least not tonight. But who knew what tomorrow would bring? He shook his head to dispel the anxious thoughts. Hell he would take whatever small mercies he could get.

* * *

_"Please... Fuck me, Sebastian."_

_The other man was pressed against his body, his alabastor skin smooth and unblemished. Sebastian attacking his throat with his tongue and teeth like he'd been starved; only the taste of the milky flesh capable of quenching his maddening hunger._

_He rutted his cock over the cheeks, sliding deftly over the crack of the full ass causing a wanton moan to escape from the other man. Sebastian eased the stranger forward on all fours, positioning himself behind him as he held onto the thin hips, his cock aching with need._

_"Please. Fuck me."_

_God he needed to. His dick leaked with the urge to drill into his partner's tight entrance. The faceless specimen arching his lean back in anticipation of being dominated by forceful thrusts._

_Sebastian slipped his cock inside, the blissful pressure almost making him spill his cum early. After his momentary pause to adjust to the overwhelming ecstasy, he feels himself go into auto-pilot, thrusting with abandon, making the other man call out primatively. But the tone somehow laced in silk; an almost pretty intonation._

_"Don't stop! God, yes."_

_"I won't."_

_"I need you."_

_"Fuck. I need you too."_

_"Sebastian. Fuck! Tell me you love me."_

_"I - I love, you."_

_"Mmm - yeah. Say it again."_

_"I love you. Fuck, so much. I love you, Kurt."_

_And it was then when the face became distinctive. The disheveled pile of brunette hair familiar and falling in a messy curtain into his crystalline eyes that were a cutting blue, overblown with pleasurable satisfaction..._

"Mmm, Kurt."

"W-what the hell?!"

"Aargh!" Sebastian screamed out when he felt the weight of what felt like a large mammoth land directly on top of his erect dick.

The horrific pain. It felt blinding and had Sebastian seeing stars as he abruptly rolled onto the floor in a hissing ball of erratic agony.

"Somebody's under there!" The voice bellowed. "Who the - Fuck, it's a dude. Who the hell -"

The guy, he presumed by the deepness of the tone, had mistaken him for part of the couch. Unfortunately it was in the place where his hard cock happened to be standing at attention at the complete mercy of whoever decided to pop a squat... In this case, right on the tip of his raised flag pole.

Sebastian was having a difficult time really deciphering the identity of the figure as he was too busy squinting in pain, cupping his surely broken dick as he groaned from his place on the floor half wrapped by a bundle of blankets.

"Oh. God. Oh, God. I sat on your - Oh, God. I think I'm hyperventilating. I just sat right - right on top of some guy's - and I, I felt your... Oh, God."

"More like y-you, broke some guy's dick," Sebastian hissed through clenched teeth.

"Oh. My. God. I'm freaking out -"

"What the hell's goin' on here?!"

Sebastian immediately recognizes Papa Hummel's voice. He honestly shouldn't have a problem with being able to at this point. He's experienced it in all of its extremes. From its unforgettable sound of rigorous anger, all the way to its state of calm complacency. He grimaces from his place on the floor, trying to will the pain to recede so he can formulate the words to explain.

"Some guy - I just, sat down to have some cereal and I - I sat on whoever the hell this is."

Burt looks down at Sebastian, assessing his current position with a narrowed glare. He clears his throat and begins in an even tone.

"Were you having a, um - Did you -" Burt exhales and tries again. "Did he sit on your, you know - _parts_, son?"

Sebastian manages to nod his head.

"Thought so. How did you not see him there, Finn?"

Ah. So this was the infamous Finn. The first thing Seb notices is that the guy's freaking gargantuan. He had to be 6' 5'', easy. However, something about him despite his size comes across sort of gawkish and uncouth. Like he hadn't quite matured into himself. School boy... that was it. He reminded Sebastian of some naive school boy with a charming smile and an acute lack of common sense.

"I don't know! I just, I was half asleep with my bowl of Cap'n Crunch. And all I could think about was catching up on the Walking Dead and how awesome eating was gonna be and... I sat on - you know - _him_. He was like, blended into the couch or something. All those damn blankets I guess."

"Right. Well, go get some rags and clean up this mess. Sebastian. Can you get up?"

"I - I think so."

"Sit up and I'll get you some ice."

"Yes, sir."

Suddenly Burt flashes a mischievous grin as Seb slowly climbs back onto the couch.

"Funny. You two haven't even exchanged names yet you've already managed to get to third base -"

"Aaagh! Stop, dude!" came Finn's distressed voice from the kitchen where he was gathering a dish rag and utensils to clean the spilt bowl of cereal from the carpet.

Burt chuckles to himself as he follows in the pet's wake, meandering into the kitchen. Sebastian would've actually been amused enough to smile if his dick didn't feel like it was bent like a fucking submarine periscope.

Papa Hummel is still sporting that damn grin when he returns with an ice pack and hands it over to Sebastian.

"I better go check on Kurt. Play nice while I'm gone."

Finn scowls before bending down to mop up the milk puddle and pieces of cereal that by some means had implanted themselves into the carpet fibers.

"I don't think it's completely broken-"

"Please - don't talk," Finn sincerely pleads. "The more you talk. The more this whole thing becomes real."

"What whole thing?"

"That I got poked - like actually on my ass - by your junk, dude. I feel like, violated or something."

"I'd rather feel violated then to have my dick completely mangled and pointing the wrong direction -"

"Please. Just - please."

Sebastian raises a hand in mock surrender, the other holding the ice pack in place against his damaged goods. Eventually all that can be heard in the room is the sound of Finn's harsh scrubbing against the carpet and his mumbled curses as he picked through the bits of cereal with a huff.

As he dabs at a portion of carpet that was more deeply soaked in milk, Finn solemnly comments, "I know who you are. You're the PFAG, guy. Right?"

"That's me. The P-_FLAG _guy."

"Oh. Yeah. Kurt's mentioned you before."

"Hm."

Silence ensues again. Except the sound of the friction against the carpet from Finn's scrub job.

"Name's Sebastian. I find that it rolls off the tongue a little easier than PFLAG guy."

The pet blushes uncomfortably at the mention of tongues.

"Finn."

"Kurt's step bro. Big man on campus I hear."

Finn snorts at this remark. "Maybe a few years ago. Now I'm just the mediocre quarterback who still gets slushies in the face for being in the lamest school club in existence and who's two steps from going full on queer. According to - well, pretty much everybody."

"Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Two steps from breaking free of your closet skipper?"

"What? No. I'm not gay, dude."

"So why do you give a fuck what those other people think?"

The scrubbing noise ceases, Finn spluttering into a fragile reverie.

"It's... it's just easier, I guess. In the end, nobody likes to be the odd man out."

Sebastian sneers.

"I'm sure Kurt blends in really well."

Finn commences his cleaning before answering.

"He manages. It's hard. But he's adapted the best he could."

Sebastian feels the disdain coursing through him. _This_ was the fucking guy who had once prompted Kurt's unrequited affections? Who had the kid completely swooning like some idiot from an old black and white film?

"He loved you."

"And I love him. As my brother. Back then, I was stupid -"

"Just back then?"

Finn looks up with obvious detestment etched across his face.

"Look. I don't even know you. And you sure as hell don't know me -"

"I know enough. That you're obviously some monumentous attention whore who likes leading people on for their own sad little ego boost."

Finn is gritting his teeth, his jaw clenched tightly as his eyes stay fixated on the object of his growing frustration.

"You're a friend of Kurt's, so I'm not gonna punch your face off like I really want to right now. But yeah - I was a dumb ass and selfish and I should've did better about being honest with Kurt instead of kicking him when he was down. I knew how he felt and I let my fear of being called a fag control how I reacted to him. When he came onto me, I panicked and said some really stupid things."

Finn chucks the spoon into the bowl with a resonating 'clank' sound and then stands.

"It was one of the biggest mistakes of my life. And I'm just thankful he forgave me and we could move on and become real brothers. Because Kurt is probably one the bravest and all around best people I've ever known." He stoops down to pick up the dirty rag and used paper towels.

"And by the way. Me accidentally sitting on your dick wasn't creepy cause you're a dude or cause you're gay or whatever... It's cause you're some strange dude sitting on my family's couch, which I tend to lounge on pretty often, with a raging hard on that nearly poked through my left ass cheek. Forgive me for finding it a little disturbing, dude."

For once, Sebastian has no retort. Because, yeah. It was a little disturbing. And suddenly he hopes that Skipper hadn't overheard the name he'd been moaning before he'd found a seat on his cock.

* * *

"Hey. Hey Princess. Wake up."

"Mmm. Do I have to?"

Seb smiles. Kurt was going to feel like such shit. But in the mean time, he looks cute in all of his hung over glory. His usually emaculate hair was sticking up at a odd angles. His face buried in the pillow to block out the rays of sun slipping through the curtains. He was still wearing last night's designer jeans, Sebastian's eyes lingering a little longer then he'd care to admit over the sinfully tight material skimming over the supple ass. He shakes his head and notes more of Kurt's creamy skin then he's been privy to in real life; his lithe but toned arms deliciously exposed since he'd managed to be stripped of his layers with the exception of a plain white undershirt.

"No."

And then Sebastian gets this overwhelming urge to see this image again. That he could probably see this everyday. It causes him to suck in a breath, his chest feeling suddenly heavy.

"But I - I, um - just wanted to say goodbye. I'm leaving."

The image imploded. That would never be his to have.

"Leaving?" Kurt sits up too fast, and touches his fingertips to his temples with an audible groan.

"Ow."

"Here. Your dad asked me to bring this down to you."

Princess gratefully takes the aspirin and gulps down the water.

"Bless you. Wait. Did you say -"

"Yeah. Your dad. Also known as Burt the Ice King Hummel."

"Oh my dear Gaga. H-he saw you? He knows you're here?"

"So does your family pet."

Kurt mouths the words 'family pet' and then it apparently dawns on him.

"You met Finn? And my Dad knows you're here?"

Sebastian nods with a soft smile.

"Did Carole run interference or something? How the hell did you avoid being maimed?"

Sebastian chortles while replacing the half empty water glass on Kurt's night stand.

"She went to work before we'd gotten here. Your dad told me."

"Perilous Prada... He knows I was drinking. Doesn't he?"

"Correction. He knows you were completely shit faced."

Kurt groans in exasperation, ducking his face back in the pillow.

"He'll get over it. In the next ten, maybe fifteen years. Until then, enjoy being a virgin Princess. Because I wouldn't be surprised after that display if he builds you a customized chastity belt and keeps you holed up in your ice castle during your stint of captivity."

Kurt answers with more unintelligble groaning into the pillow. Sebastian leans over and kisses the top of his head before standing.

"I'll see you around Sparkles."

"Wait. You're really leaving?"

"You didn't think I was going to stay? What, with your dad shooting bullets out of his eyes and your brother looking like he wants to smash in my face with whatever's lying around? No thanks."

"Well, at least let me drive you." Kurt tries to stand and squints at the pain the sudden movement provokes in his already throbbing head. Sebastian eases him back on the bed.

"I already called a cab. Daddy Hummel wouldn't hear of me walking that far so don't worry about it. Just lay back down. Call me when you rejoin the land of the sober."

Kurt nods his head and spreads over the bed like a spoiled house cat, a cheshire grin growing across those pinkened lips.

"M'kay."

"Bye, Princess."

"Mmm."

Sebastian laughs softly. He had to get out of here. His heart was getting too used to the idea of this image. It was being branded there without his logical permission.

* * *

This one was lengthy and initially I was thinking to break it up but I sort of thought it worked better spliced together into one chappy. I'm too lazy to give disclaimers for the random things I mentioned but I'm sure you probably figured out what I don't own. Um, let's see... what else... Oh, right. Let me know what you guys think. As always reviews make me feel dopey and tingly and all those awesome kind of sensations all at once. Thanks!


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: **On this one, I felt it pretty necessary to inform you that there will be some pretty harsh and traumatic type stuff going down. It's of an inappropriate sexual nature. But I won't say more than that cause I refuse to be too specific and spoilery. I gave warning at the beginning chap of this story and tried to be clear. If certain things that I warned about such as** sexual assault/abuse, etc,** are a bit much then you might want to skip this one. I know some of you have been waiting for the darkness to unveil itself... Welcome to the beginning of the dark path that lies ahead my friends. And as always, I quite enjoy your beautiful thoughts. Many thanks!

* * *

He saw her again.

The phantom woman in his dreams. This time though she wasn't just reaching out for him. Her fingers were outstretched toward another boy.

His skin was opaline, his small frame almost feeble. But he knew that perfect sweep of brunette hair and those guileless blue eyes anywhere; even if they belonged to a small child.

The indistinct but ever present woman was guiding the child version of Kurt away from him. Kurt looked back as they marched determinately forward hand in hand, his blue eyes catching on Sebastian's green.

He seemed happy and whole as he glided through the familiar ashen colored fields of wheat holding the ghost woman's hand.

"We're waiting for you," the woman whispered.

And then they were gone. Lost in vague flashes of imagery as his mind re-entered the confines of real time and space.

Needless to say he'd been up and out of the apartment before the others had managed to awaken that morning. He never did well with stewing in his own uncertainty. That or being wracked by contemplation while trails of cold sweat reminded him that what he perceived helplessly in sleep could manifest itself physiologically on his very skin, not just in his mind.

He'd successfully fucked five guys before the day was out.

He'd exchanged brief texts with Kurt, but was still too haunted by the liberty in which the conscious and unconscious images of Kurt kept battling to find unhindered refuge in his mind's eye to be able to exchange more than casual pleasantries with him. He felt himself standing in limbo on top of the barriers he'd long ago built for himself against people. Not sure if he should jump into the abyss or stay behind the barricade where it was safe.

Even when he wasn't actively thinking about him, he was spending time thinking about how he shouldn't be thinking about him. It was crazy making.

So much so that he nearly missed Santana's call some time past seven that night.

"Hey."

"Seb. Where are you?"

"I'm on my way back for the day. Why are you whispering? What's wrong?"

He could hear her press her mouth closer into the phone.

"You're brother. H-he's like, losing it right now."

"Did he hurt you?"

"No."

"Brittany?"

"Hell, no," she nearly growls through the unease. Santana was like that though when it came to Brittany. There had been more than a fair few times that she'd taken punishment for something that Brittany had unintentionally done. Coming up short on the days earnings, or something as simple as forgetting Simon's cigarettes on the way home. She'd protect that girl with every fiber of her being.

"W-what are you talking about then-"

"He's just. I don't know. He's been locked in the room for hours. Some times he screams and breaks stuff. Then I thought I heard him crying. It's just - I don't really know what to do."

Sebastian felt the blood draining from his face. This never boded well for any of them when Simon got like this. It was rare but when it happened...

He shakes the thoughts away, feeling equally numb and calculating.

"Okay. This is what I want you to do. You and Brittany pack your shit. I'm only a few blocks away but stay put for now. When I get there I want you to leave. Go stay at a motel until I say otherwise."

"But Seb we can't -"

"San. Just do it. Okay?"

She breathes slowly, clearly looking for the right words to argue. Eventually she states, "Okay. See you soon."

"Yeah. Now get going."

The sound of a 'click' signalled that she'd taken heed and was abiding his directives. He shoved his cell phone in his pocket and immediately went into an all out sprint to get home.

When he makes it there, the reticence was like an iron curtain. The air cold and dead with the exception of the two girls huddled together on the couch, whispering softly to each other.

Sebastian places his pointer finger to his lips and draws toward them, looking them over carefully as he signals for them to stand.

"You're okay?"

"Yeah," Santana breathes. Brittany simply nods, her eyes bright with distilled fear.

"Good. How long has he been at it?"

"We've only been home since five or so. Maybe before that. I don't know exactly. He could be coming down off something but - the crying, Seb. It's weird for even him -"

"A'right. Here. I made some extra," Sebastian explains as he hands a few bills to Santana who's expression automatically exudes mutiny.

"Santana," he warns curtly. "Just take that and check into the Claremont. Should be pretty lame tonight. No stragglers or Pigs. Hang there for tonight. If you don't hear back from me for a while, get in contact with Kurt."

"Princess?"

"Yeah. Here, give me your phone."

Santana hands over her cell while Sebastian makes quick work of programming Kurt's number into it, then gives it back.

"Let him know that I might be gone for a few days and I'll call him when I can. Make up some excuse or whatever."

"I don't like this Sebastian."

"Yeah. Well I don't like when you make the fucking face you're making now. But you know how it is. When it gets bad, it has to be me. He'll only listen to me. It's the only way."

"But it's off Sebastian. I think he's really off this time. Something's really bothering him or something... There's just something more -"

"Santana. Stop." He nods over at Brittany who seems near tears. Santana's dark eyes bloom with understanding. She exhales.

"You're the boss Sebastard. But you call me or text or something. As soon as you can. Or I'm coming back here. And I don't give a shit about the outcome. Got me?"

"Don't I always?"

"Whatever gaylord."

Seb steps over and gives Brittany a quick kiss to the cheek. "It'll be fine."

Both girls are riddled with dismay; Santana more so a budding agitation while Brittany's was a portrayal of conclusive dread. Sebastian however held firm until they finally filed out the door and left him in a sudden shock of fretful disquiet.

He summoned his courage, knowing that Santana's concern was never to be taken lightly. That girl actually admitting to any vulnerability was like striking the lotto with a single ticket purchase. It was a rarity in its truest form.

He knocks on the bedroom door. Silence.

He tries again. Still nothing.

"Simon. It's Sebastian."

For a moment, Seb thought maybe he should count his measly blessings and just let Simon sulk alone for a while. But then he hears it.

"It's unlocked."

Two very simple words that inexplicably ate at his soul. He quietly pushes the door open and closes it behind himself. He doesn't know why exactly. It's not like they would have any company.

The room is dark except for the light draping in through the blinds produced by nearby street lights and businesses, bolstered against the dark back drop in hopes of attracting late night customers.

Seb assesses the damage around the room. The mirror that had once sat over the vanity was shattered, broken fragments piled near the foot of the dresser like pieces of strewn crystal. There were several fist sized holes in the adjacent wall, one a top the other like an ill attempted pattern. Random effects that had once been sitting precariously on the end tables were broken on the floor and laid out after being flung around for the sole purpose of rendering further destruction. Clothes were sprawled about and somewhere the other half of a liquir bottle was splintered in pieces.

Sebastian looks up at his brother's haggard form, hunched over and sitting directly in the middle of the bed, his spiked head bowed and pressed into his knees.

"Simon?"

Simon looks up, his eyes rimmed red, barely discernable through the streaks of white-blue light.

"Little brother."

"What happened?" Sebastian asks tentatively.

"I've missed you."

"I missed you too. W-what's going on?" He replies monotonously.

"I just - I need you, man."

Simon was deflecting. Sebastian deduced that right away. But he wouldn't push him. He would simply follow. Distract him from the fact that Brit and San weren't present and available for his impending bull shit.

"I'm here, Simon. I'm right here."

"C'mere little brother."

Sebastian stutters to a halt. He recognizes that tone. He knows all too well what it means.

"C'mere. Please."

Seb forces his feet to move and slowly eases on to the bed next to his brother. Simon holds up his arm, Sebastian obediently ducking underneath it and allowing his brother to hold him.

"Yeah. You are here now. That's good."

Sebastian remains still as his brother's fingertips softly graze through his tresses.

"Are you coming down?" Sebastian inquires. He felt pretty sure that at least some of these spontaneous emotions were likely drug induced.

"I'm always coming down, Sebby. But at the moment, I've got other things on my mind I suppose."

"You know you scare them when you get like this."

"And you? Do I scare you, Seb?"

Sebastian wasn't sure how to answer that.

"I feel like you don't always mean it. To be this way, I mean."

"Hm. Maybe. But that's why I count on you. You've always gotten me. Haven't you?"

Sebastian tenses when he feels a gentle press of lips to his neck.

"I need you, Seb. I need you to make me feel better."

The kisses trail lightly over his skin until they turn into possessive bites.

"I - I don't want that Simon. You know I don't want to do that anymore-"

"Only you can take it away, Sebby. Please," and Simon's calloused hands are groping over Sebastian's chest, running over his neck and tangling into his hair.

The sound of a zipper being unfastened invades the stillness like a gun blast penetrating the night air. Sebastian feels himself giving in, doesn't fight it as his head lowers toward the inevitable. His mind shutting off as his lips wrap around Simon's cock, already half hard from the anticipation of perusing the familiar space of Seb's awaiting mouth.

"Mmm. Perfect."

He tries to block it out. Like so many times before. This was what his brother needed from him. If this is what it took to keep him calm, to keep the girls safe... Than this is just what it had to be.

He's trained himself to become numb. Between being the fuck toy of complete strangers and the occasional pick me up for his brother, he had to learn to shut it all off and simply... give in.

He barely feels it when Simon pulls out of his mouth and forcefully pushes him onto his stomach. A beastial insatiability that overtakes Simon, parading past the sweet nothings and gentle caresses into a carnal need to dominate.

Simon doesn't use a condom. He never does. He's trained Sebastian well enough to never truly be fearful of the risk of catching anything. Seb was clean because Simon would put a bullet in his skull if he wasn't. He wouldn't dare be dirty.

Somehow his clothes have disappeared along with any sane thoughts of trying to fight.

He's sadly thankful that Simon at least slathered on the lube before pushing inside of him.

"Mm. Yeah, Seb. Fuck - yeah. I needed you."

Simon grabs a fistful of Sebastian's hair as he plows into him from behind.

"Do you see - Do you see what you make me do to you little brother?"

He yanks back, causing Seb to cry out.

"Y-yes."

"I have to make you understand. And this is - fuck - the only way."

Sebastian bites his bottom lip to allay the grunts of pain waiting to bubble forth at his brother's growing ferocity. Simon is fucking him relentlessly, prodding for the resulting goal of imminent pain.

Simon pushes his head down into the mattress as his thrusts become more powerful, the sound of slapping flesh making Seb's stomach churn.

"You're mine. Say it."

The hesitation leads to Simon putting his forearm across the back of Seb's neck, effectively pinning his head down in a sort of choke hold.

"Say it!"

"I - I'm yours."

"Only fucking mine!" And Simon loses it then, cumming inside of Sebastian and slumping over his back in a spent heap of exhaustion.

He trails a couple of tender kisses across Sebastian's shoulder blade and neck as his heavy breathing gradually returns to normal.

"There. That wasn't so bad."

Sebastian just lays there as the sound of that fucking zipper being zipped up assaults his ear drums; a reminder of just how much of a piece of shit Sebastian truly was.

"Now. Little brother. I want you to know, that I know that you've been hanging around with your little pretty brunette friend, even though you know that you belong to me. What you've been doing with him - is getting too close. Which I warned you about before. It was kind of cute at first. I even thought maybe we could get him to turn trick for us - But now I see. All your extra nights out. Putting yourself in stupid situations. There's something more there. And it feels costly. And I don't like it."

Sebastian hears another familiar sound that instantly cools his blood.

Before he can blink the blade is pressed against the skin of his neck. Simon was holding Seb's own switch blade across his throat, the steel drawing a thin line of blood with the pressure in which Simon was holding it against the skin.

"I looked our dear friend Kurt Hummel up. I know where his blue collared father works, Sebby. Didn't take the kid for the type to have a grease monkey Daddy. And I can easily found out where he lives. So if I hear anything about you moon lighting around with this fucking kid - I won't kill you. I'll just kill him. Better yet. I'll do to him, what I just did to you. Except I'll do it over and over and over. And I'll make sure you watch. Every. Single. Shove of my cock, in his tight little ass. Understood little brother?"

Seb manages a subtle nod.

"Good. Glad we have an accord," and Simon slowly drags the blade over Sebastian's neck, causing a light trail of blood to follow in its wake.

Sebastian hisses while Simon laughs darkly, making a show of licking the blood off of the blade.

"Sweet. As always. Take a shower. And clean this shit up. I'll make you something to eat."

Simon plants a lingering kiss to the top of Sebastian's head and saunters toward the exit.

Sebastian couldn't help but feel like he'd been dooped by the uncanny mastery of suspenseful manipulation by his fucking flesh and blood sibling.

Then the door closes, leaving him to wallow in his own treacherous thoughts, very alone, and very devastated at everything he could never be. Like an actual person.

He'd lost that person with the first taste of strange dick. With the first show of love from his brother that was anything but loving when he recalls the physical pain of being ripped open, despite the cover up of tender kisses and promises to always be protected by him. That this was how brothers loved one another. That this was how he could show Simon that he mattered, at least in some small way.

It didn't happen often. In all honesty, he knew that Simon had used the girls in that way probably many more times than he had him. It was a secret of theirs. It always had been. The girls didn't know. At least to his knowledge. They probably just thought that Sebastian had the gift of gab to soothe their mentor, or a strong jaw that didn't bruise as easy.

With Sebastian, it was like something was slipping away for Simon when he needed sexual favor. That he needed to be grounded again. Whatever it was that Simon got from Sebastian, it seemed that Seb was the only one on the planet that could give it to him. That there was something... maybe love, there... it was just a twisted, unhealthy, dangerous version that did some times spawn into delicate moments of understanding and laughter and honest to goodness appreciation amongst them in their relationship.

He was never sure what real love looked like. That had come the day he realized that his childhood wasn't actually considered normal. But if it felt anything like what his brother did to him, then in the end, he wanted nothing to do with it.

* * *

**A/N:** I know... incest. You may or may not have seen that one coming. I debated on taking it there for a while but I've been getting pretty steady feedback about delving back into the heavy content so here's to a head first dive *clink*


	13. Chapter 13

The chains were invisible. But they were there.

He didn't want to make any sudden movements. Give away any indications that he was thinking feverishly of his escape despite lying about in a docile, nearly comatose manner with Simon constantly hovering over him.

He had been there for hours at least.

Simon hadn't mentioned the girls. If anything, it was as if he was completely impartial regarding their where abouts. He only seemed concerned with keeping Sebastian under lock and key. At least for the time being.

He'd finally gotten a break when Simon had decided to take a shower.

He rolls over, feeling laden with anxiousness, but still groggy, fatigued from having laid about for such a prolonged period.

He reaches over the side of the bed and pulls his cell from his jeans pocket, the pants bunched up in a pile on the floor, breathing fast as he scrolls through to examine his text inbox.

Santana had sent him over ten messages. Each one increasingly more frantic than the one before due to his lack of reciprocation.

Sebastian quickly sends her a text back indicating that he was fine and that Simon had finally calmed down. He then urged her to stay out of the apartment until he gave the 'go ahead' to return. Just in case.

He then notices his voicemail icon blinking, harboring a single message.

The missed call reads one word: **_Princess_**.

That one fucking word causes his stupid heart to ignite with emotional turmoil; a generous mix of exuberance and panic making it hard to take a breath.

He looks back over at the cracked door, noting that the shower was still running. Simon never took long when he showered. But Sebastian's desire to know was too strong to ignore. Making a quick decision to take the risk, he slides out of the bed and curls up in the corner, resting his back against the bed frame.

He pushes the icon to check the message.

The desparation in which he clings to the phone makes him feel a fresh wave of despair.

_"Um... Hey. I got some random call from of all people, Santana. She told me something about you needing to help Simon with some business and that you'd maybe be gone for a day or so. I, uh... I don't know. I guess - I guess I would've felt better if I'd heard it straight from you."_

Sebastian exhales, thinking of how this was one of the first times a lie actually caused guilt to swell and overtake him.

_"But I suppose I shouldn't be picky. I should know better, right? That things might come up in your uh, line of work. And that you'll have days where you'll just... disappear. She told me not to call and to wait to hear from you. I couldn't help it. There was just something nagging me. Worry, if I had to pick a word. It's stupid. But I... I just wanted to hear your voice Meerkat. Gaga, I'm acting like a grossly clingy old cat lady, aren't I? You're probably laughing at this right now. Anyway... Call me when you can. Please."_

He slowly drags the phone away from his ear. His eyes glued to some space across from where he sat, not really processing what he was staring at.

Sebastian barely registers the jerking grind of the water ceasing and the tell tale crash of the shower door slamming open before he shakes himself awake again. He flicks through the settings to erase the message and eradicate the call from the call log.

Just as he's hitting the delete button, Simon strolls into the room completely nude, rubbing a towel over his dark head to relinquish the wetness from the choppy strands. Seb tucks the phone under his bare thigh, hoping that the blankets serve as the necessary camoflauge to dispel any suspiscion.

The soft padding of Simon's foot steps abruptly pauses. Seb swallows.

"What're you doing little brother?"

"Nothing. Stretching."

Silence. Sebastian doesn't dare make eye contact.

"Whatever. I'm gonna head out. Got shit to take care of. Technically so do you. Let the girls know that I'm expecting them back by tomorrow with full funding in hand. Same for you. No exceptions."

"Right."

Simon casually makes his way to the dresser and begins pulling out fresh clothes. He leisurely steps into a pair of dark washed jeans, keeping his gaze trained on Sebastian.

"And you, dear brother," he grunts as he pulls a tight fitting black v-neck over his head. "Don't forget what I said."

"No."

"Good." Simon shirks into his leather jacket with a teasing smile, then winks. "See you later."

When Sebastian hears the front door close and the lock click into place, the tears he didn't even realize were skimming the surface trek easily down his cheeks. A morose celebration of survival... of having gotten the girls away, and avoiding being physically punished into serious injury. He sadly couldn't say the same for his mental well being though.

* * *

He'd already had a few regulars and worked his way through a couple of new John's when he got the text. He had just finished grabbing a quick bite from a Korean barbeque place and felt his stomach stirring unpleasantly while reading it over.

_**San - We're with Princess at his castle.**_

Sebastian glared at his phone while typing away furiously.

_**Seb - WTF? Why are you there?**_

Less than twenty seconds later he receives a reply. Santana had always been a quick study regarding texting.

_**San - You're right. It's like he's actually royalty. I couldn't deny the little gay face. He was persistant. Plus the motel scene got boring.**_

_**Seb - Well. Whatever. You guys should leave. Now. We'll meet up somewhere and get a solid game plan.**_

_**San - Aww. You worried we're going to embarrass you in front of your Princess? He already knows we're whores. Color me crazy but I think there's no real room for embarrassment beyond that. Plus he wants you to come by.**_

_**Seb - No. I can't.**_

_**San - You're out right now**._

_**Seb - Point?**_

_**San - Come by and we'll leave together. The kid's been cutely worried. You owe him at least a face to face no matter what you decide after. Brit's in love with him. I'd be way jealous if the kid wasn't flaming like a backdraft sequel.**_

Sebastian huffs, rolling his eyes at no one in particular but wishing that Santana was there to witness it since it was indeed meant for her.

_**Seb - Stay. Put. On way.**_

He originally thought to take the bus but there was a sense of urgency that prompted him to get there as soon as possible, so he elected to take a cab instead; only mildly annoyed by the extra expenditure.

When he arrived at the Hudson-Hummel residence, he was surprised by who answered the door.

"Mr. Meerkat I presume."

"Baby O. What're you doing here?"

"Uh - I can ask you the same thing."

"I heard there was a couple of wayward women here who seemed to have lost their way. I've come to collect them."

"If you mean your blond angel and Satan herself than this is the place."

"Glad you two were able to get acquainted."

"Yeah. I'm surprised I didn't get third degree burns by all of the flames shooting out of her eyeballs."

Sebastian couldn't help but chuckle. "Funny. She would say the same about Kurt."

"Oh she has. Multiple times actually."

"Right."

Mercedes seems hesitant to open the door fully, leaning into it with an air of anxiousness. Her furrowed brow reinforces this reluctance. Finally she speaks.

"I'm sorry but I gotta ask. How deep into this stuff are you? I mean - honestly?"

He knew what that meant. There was always an expiration date on everything. Relationships included. He feels the chill run through himself causing his tone to emanate a powerful indifference.

"Don't worry Op's. We're leaving. If you want you can just tell them to meet me outside -"

"No. That's not what I meant. I just... I don't understand it. I mean - Satan is, well, Satan - but even with her this doesn't seem right. You guys are all so young and Brittany especially. She's like a seven year old trapped in a well built fantastic teenaged body. I just don't understand... Why are you guys doing this?"

"I thought you said you weren't the judgemental type?"

"I'm not. But I am the caring type -"

"Apparently you're the incredibly nosy as shit type too. We have our reasons."

"What reason could possibly be good enough to throw your life away?"

"Look. You don't know me. You don't know any of us. So don't stand here and pretend like you do. I said we have our reasons."

Suddenly, there are flashes of Simon's hands on him. Kissing his neck, roughly pushing his cock into him...

Sebastian having to cover the thin cut on his own neck with several cheap band-aid's...

All of these images course through his mind's eye without provocation. They're just - there. Mocking him, really.

Yeah. He had his reasons. But sometimes, it was hard for even him to decipher what they were exactly.

"Hey."

Sebastian looks past Mercedes at the taller figure now taking up the door frame. Sebastian physically failed in keeping the slow forming smirk off of his lips at the sight.

"Hey," he greets back.

"You guys okay?" Princess asks with a quirked eyebrow.

Mercedes eyes Sebastian, waiting for him to respond. Seb exhales and then gives a subtle nod.

"Yeah. We're good. So, I er - can't stay. I just came by to get the free loaders."

"Oh. Right. Um - come in. We're all in the living room."

"Thanks."

The exchange was grossly formal and it was obvious to him that Princess was disappointed. But he had to keep it that way. Cold. Unfeeling. This was becoming too much for them. They didn't belong here. Kurt shouldn't be around this...

He enters the living room to see Brittany jumping up and down and then making impressively fluid movements in time with the avatar lighting up the screen, merrily engaging in some live dancing video game. He could only catch a glimpse of the side of her face, but the smile was too big and too sincere to go unnoticed.

Santana was lounging on the couch, watching with a jubliant amusement. Her bare feet kicked up on the coffee table, looking somewhere on the borderline of comfortable. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen both girls look so... elated, happy.

"No one else is home?"

"Not at the moment. Finn's over at his friend Puck's house -"

"The douche that gave you that craptastic fake ID and dubbed you 'Alvin'?"

"One in the same."

"Of course his name is Puck."

Kurt mock slapped him on the arm.

"Don't judge. Besides it was his faulty albeit creative craftsmanship that got me into Scandal's that night when I got the privilege of witnessing the exquisite art of smashing glass over someone's head."

"I think it was more like that place being so hard up for clientele that they over looked your babyface. And the fact that you were attempting to parade around as Adam Lambert's cousin through marriage, twice removed or whatever was probably too amusing to _not_ reward. Plus me putting down your gay gorilla was pretty hot."

It was like word vomit. Regurgitated and flung out into the atmosphere without warrant. The playful banter just came naturally with them. He hadn't realized how much he'd missed it until both boys grew silent, catching each others gaze in a tender exchange.

"Dad and Carole are at work," Kurt related, his small smile somehow lighting up the entirety of his face.

"Well if it isn't Sebastard. Now we've got a party," Santana calls over after noticing his presence.

Brittany turns away from the game, face still split by a huge grin and then flings herself at him full force nearly toppling him over.

"Seb!"

"Hey, Brit. Having fun I take it?"

"Definitely. Kurtie Kurtie Princess is being really awesome. I think he really is a snow angel. Do you wanna play?" She says excitedly, gesturing over to the game console while simultaneoulsy pulling his hand.

"That's okay, Brit. You play. But just for a little bit 'cause we have to get going soon."

Her expression fell slightly and the smile that was meant to illustrate reassurance only reminded him of the tired one he usually saw after she finished a day on the beat. She restarted the game while Seb found a seat next to Santana on the couch. Kurt dismissed himself to retrieve more snacks from the kitchen, Mercedes tagging along to assist him.

"So you mean to tell me he just invited you here?"

"Yep."

"And you actually thought it was a good idea to come?"

"Yep. Sure did. Been here for hours now. It's a nice place."

Sebastian shakes his head incredulously.

"You know what? This isn't a game. Whatever the fuck you're doing. It needs to stop," he hisses, taking full advantage of the blaring noise level of the television to speak exclusively to her.

Santana stiffens at the tone of his voice; icy, and fiercely menacing. Her eyes flash dangerously as her brows contract into a scowl.

"What is it you think I'm doing Sebastian?"

"I don't know. But it stops today. He can't be around us. You saw how Simon was looking at him the other day. There was nothing good about it -"

"There's nothing good about _him_. There never has been. You know that -"

"But he's been there for us. He's the one who's looked out for us all of these years. Kept us from getting caught up -"

"Maybe. But you and I both know we can't be this forever, Seb. When is it ever gonna stop for us? I mean, this shit? Normal stuff. Hanging out. Playing video games while giving each other facials and planning our next shopping trip to the mall. That ain't us. It never will be. We've seen too much. Been through too much for _this _to feel right. To be normal or remotely real to us. But someday... Maybe. We can have something that feels close to it."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about that kid in there? He feels something for you. And I only recognize it because I feel it for her," she whispers while trailing her eyes softly over the blond girl engrossed in her ridiculous aerobic like dance moves that she copied effortlessly from the screen.

"And the craziest shit to me, is that it's after knowing what you are. He knows and he's still here. And as much as I hate to admit it - mostly, because I choose to hate every fucking person on this planet for sport other than you and Brit - I like the little bastard. Sure he probably shits glitter logs and eats vegan happy meals and wears lady clothes with embroidered rainbows but... he does something to you. Like a positive something."

"I don't know what he told you but -"

"He didn't. He didn't have to. It was just confirmed the minute you two were around each other. Look, all I know is that we've lived one way for a long time, right? Maybe it's time for something else. To be open to something else besides what our lives have been."

"But Simon -"

"Fuck him."

"You don't understand. You know how Simon is. I don't want to put anyone at risk. I couldn't live with that -"

"Well, I don't know about you. But I only really started living when she came into our lives. And even now, I can't help but feel like we're being cheated out of something great. I lost my sister to the system when I was ten. I'll be damned if I lose her too. But you do what you want."

Just as Kurt and Mercedes re-emerged into the living room carrying several large bowls of chips and what looked like chex mix or some shit, Santana stood purposefully.

"Hate to break up the party lady lips but we needs to be going."

"Oh. Uh - really?"

"Yeah. Really. But thanks for having us over. We don't really get invited out much. Well, unless it involves being on our backs in strange places and someone else getting a happy ending if you know what I mean. Brit, let's go."

Brittany shuts off the game console like Kurt had taught her and strides over to take Santana's hand. She hesitates, then drops her hand away in order to stand directly in front of Kurt.

"I don't know lots of stuff. I do know that sometimes people are mean. Really mean. But I guess, sometimes there are other people - special ones, who can make you see magic."

"Does she mean like a magician?" Mercedes asks off handedly. Probably just making a point aloud to make sure that she wasn't just imagining the peculiar flow of conversation.

"I had more fun over here in your magic castle than I've had my whole life."

The disclosure had produced a silence heavy with bleak despondency. Heartbreaking and oozing with melancholy; each individual unable to find the words to break it apart and cast it away.

She then engulfs the lithe figure in a crushing hug and tops it off with a soft kiss to his cheek. "Thank you," she breathes, her warm eyes overlybright.

Sebastian looked over at Santana, who's hard resolve seemed painfully close to crumbling in a shattered heap at her now boot clad feet. What made the bizarre exclamation devastatingly morbid, was how true it was.

Brittany probably never really felt a true peacefulness before. None of them had, really. They only had each other to fake their way through some sense of safety and feigned cohesion that honestly didn't exist in their world. It was always broken with every stranger's intrusion of their bodies, every burst of physical pain brought on by Simon...

This was probably the first time Brittany got to really be the child her mind had already been for years without fear of being torn down for it. To be silly, to have fun, to be her unadulterated self outside of the brief moments when Simon wasn't home.

Seb knows why that smile had disappeared so rapidly now. Who would want to leave behind a candid introduction to bliss and re-enter an environment riddled with eventual promises of pain?

"You're so welcome honey, that it actually hurts," was Kurt's teary reply. Kurt must have sensed the honesty behind her words as well and not surprisingly, it had struck a definitive chord in him.

Santana steps forward and pats Kurt on the cheek with a bit too much fervor judging by the way he rubs at the spot she'd tapped, while Mercedes wraps Brittany up in a motherly type embrace.

"Lady lips," Santana states affectionately.

"She Devil," he retorts with matching affection despite his overall sad disposition.

"Bye Biggie."

"Satan," Mercedes replies, any trace of agitation absent.

"We'll be waiting outside Seb," Santana relays, and then his girls disappear over the threshold leaving the trio alone. Mercedes turns to speak directly to Sebastian.

"I gave my number to Brittany. She can call me. And that goes for all of you. If you want. But in the mean time, be kind to yourself meerkat. You're not a samurai. And I see now... I see some of your reasons. Well, at least two of them anyway."

She gives him a soft smile, then retreats down the hallway, her heavy footfalls audible as she makes her way downstairs into Kurt's bedroom.

And then there were two.

Sebastian is having a hard time meeting Kurt's eye. Not when he knows that this would probably be the last time he'd get to dive into that perfect span of velvety blue that so easily roped him in. He swallows, and then looks up.

"Kurt, I -"

He's cut off by a pair of lips pressing firmly against his. Before Sebastian can begin to register what's happening, Kurt pulls away with a soft smack.

"I-I'm so sorry. I don't know why I did that. I -"

Sebastian didn't get to hear the rest of what he was going to say. He was too busy deepening their kiss, Kurt's hands automatically slinking around his neck as the intimate embrace travelled into a feverish need to taste each other; tongues tentative, but then finding solace as they danced together. Their lips overlapping sweetly, teeth nipping soft flesh until dual moans rippled into the atmosphere thick with lust.

When they finally pull away, breathless and sated beyond words, Sebastian had forgotten that he was supposed to be leaving. That he had come over with the intention to bid this boy a final farewell for everyone's sake...

"I, um - I'll..."

Just say goodbye. One fucking word. One fucking simple word to ultimately keep him safe...

"I'll call you. Okay?"

Fuck.

"Yeah. Okay," Kurt remarks breathlessly. "And Sebastian?"

Seb turns back around with what probably looks ridiculously like a deer in head lights expression.

"I'm glad you're okay."

"Um, yeah. Call you. Definitely," he stuttered out like a fucking imbecile. When he rejoins the girls who are standing idlely on the sidewalk in front of the house, Santana shoots him a knowing look.

"I take it by that stupidly dazed look on your face that you just finished doing some thinking with your dick instead of your head."

"Shut up," he warns heatedly.

"Mmhm. Thought so."

Fucking hell. Leave it to him to flake out and indeed think with... Well, had it been his dick that had taken over? Or was it something so much more worse?

His heart was still beating incessantly as if in answer.

"So does that make Seb a Prince?" Brittany ponders aloud.

Santana snorts. "The king of ding-a-ling, maybe."

Oh, how he hates her sometimes. Not nearly as much as himself, but she could be a close second.

* * *

**A/N:** I realized that there's still some development that needs to happen, hence this chap being more light hearted than that last one. I wanted to have a little more Santana and Brittany and I knew at some point I wanted them all to get acquainted with each other. Again, hence this chap. I have an idea of where I'm going (at least where I want it to end) but I'm still making up the path as I go along so there may be more moments of happy go luckiness inflitrated by gloomy sadness. We shall see. Anyway, hope you liked it! Reviews please.


	14. Chapter 14

Stupid?

Yep. Very.

But here he was. Strolling into McKinley High as if it was a customary occurrence. Like he actually belonged there.

The hallways are barren, destitute of any life with the exception of a few dawdlers leaving from their afterschool clubs and noncompulsory programs.

He figures even if there were a sea of faces swimming through the halls in a blur of sweeping movement, it still would have been impossible to have missed the colossal figure towering over his average size peers standing at the end of the widened hall.

There's a mixture of immediate apprehension and then amusement at the sight of the dick breaker himself, currently shoving some textbooks into an open locker.

Sebastian rolls his eyes, determining that it's probably best to show his face. If anything to at least be pointed in the right direction toward Princess to avoid pointless wandering.

"Hey there, dick breaker."

"What are you doing here?"

"Nice to see you too. Looking for your bro. He around?"

"Why?"

"Um - So I can offer him a coupon for rainbow flavored popsicles and be on my way."

Finn eyes him with a disgruntled expression, clearly confused. If he could, Sebastian would pat himself on the back for his earlier deduction of this gargantuan teenager. The boy certainly wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed.

"Joking."

"Oh. Well - whatever."

"So?"

Finn slams his locker shut and shoulders his backpack.

"Dude. I honestly don't trust you. Or like you, actually -"

"Need I remind you that you bent _my_ dick that morning -"

"It doesn't - it's not - that's not the point," Finn splutters. "Kurt is kinda sensitive. Sure he acts like - hard on the outside. Like nothing bothers him. But he's fragile. Like one of those glass egg thingy's."

"Are you giving me the big brother schpiel right now?"

"Maybe. I guess."

"That's cute. But trust me when I say we're not skipping down the isle together if that's what you're getting at. I like him. He's cool to be around and I like spending time with him."

Finn's eyes narrow, his teeth kneding his bottom lip, heedfully contemplating his next words.

"You think I'm trying to get in his pants. Right?" Seb asks with a raised brow.

Finn's face seems to tinge with a slowly meandering pink as if in response.

"Have you seen most of his pants? They're tighter than human skin. I don't think you have any worries there. So should I wander the halls shouting for him embarrassingly loud or can you help me out?"

Finn is still chewing his lip, and then after a long moment, exhales a cumbersome puff of air. "Follow me. He stayed behind to reorganize some of the sheet music." Finn then mumbles about them just having finished Glee practice as they stalk down the hall.

They eventually halt in front of a red door marked with a placard that read, _Choir Room_. Finn however hesitates to go in despite the door being held open by a sliver, a thin door stopper keeping it ajar.

Sebastian looks past him through the windows fixed within the heavy door, his eyes automatically shrinking into a glare.

"What's he doing with Dave Karofsky?" Finn whispers, evidently bristling with a conjoint curiousity and an urge to be protective. Kurt didn't seem like he was in danger. In fact, they were both lazing about on the piano bench, looking vaguely comfortable.

He and Finn catch each others gaze, somehow communicating that it was better to not barge in on the scene, and simply wait.

They stand clear of the windows, but remain close enough to properly eavesdrop.

Kurt is idly slipping his lean fingers over a few piano keys, a gesture Sebastian deduced is probably meant to ease any lingering awkwardness.

"So you're telling me that it wasn't a mistake?"

"No," Karofsky mutters, his eyes trailing over Kurt's fingers. "I mean, how I did it was wrong. But I meant it."

"You know you could've just told me. Maybe I would've understood."

"I was scared shitless, Kurt. I'm still not exactly... you know, okay with everything. But I know how I felt - how I feel," Karofsky corrects, looking up at Princess with a tentative expression. He gently reaches over and places his larger hand over Kurt's in order to still his fingers, causing Kurt to trace his blue eyes upward and pause on Dave's face.

Holy. Shit.

Apparently even the 'ever slow to catch on' Finn had determined where this was going judging by the way his mouth was hanging open to match his already enlarged eyes.

"David," Princess breathes, Karofsky using his other hand to cup Kurt's pale cheek.

This is happening right now. Dave is leaning in and Kurt is... He's just sitting there... They're mere inches apart...

"Stop! I - I can't do this. I'm sorry. I'm glad we were able to get over everything. But - to be friends. That's all."

The sense of dejection is alight in Karofsky's face as he slowly pulls his hand away, his posture stiffening defensively.

"This isn't because of what I did to you. Is it?"

Kurt remains silent, struggling to maintain eye contact as his blue eyes appear suspisciously bright.

"It's him, right? Sebastian."

Sebastian keeps his eyes forward, but glimpses Finn looking over at him within his peripheral vision. Kurt doesn't speak, but his body language screams an eerie defeat. That Dave had indeed hit the metaphorical nail on the head.

"You know what he is. How could you - He'll never be able to have a normal life. You wouldn't be able to have one with him."

"How do you know, Karofsky -"

"Oh c'mon, Fancy. Not even you're that naive. Unlike you, I've seen him in his natural habitat. More than once. All the nights he's picked up stranger after stranger at that sad little fucking bar. He's fucked them all. Every single one. For money -"

"You included -"

"No. Not - it wasn't - it was just a blow job. One of probably thousands for him. Is that honestly what you think of yourself? That you're only good enough to be with some whore?"

Kurt can't seem to find the words, but Sebastian can see, even from this distance the tears brimming, teetering on his lower eye lids as the pure blue burns with moisture.

"I've seen him, Fancy. He gets pleasure from it. Using people is all he knows. And you'd just be another knotch on his belt."

Something is happening. All at once. Sebastian can feel the heat of Finn's stare, coupled with his own warmth, a building fury and devastation rapidly engulfing him. He feels like he can't breathe, and the only thing to relieve the tension was to either storm in there and beat the living shit out of Karofsky, or break into a run to get far away from this... far away from these feelings.

He backs away, glaring at nothing in particular.

"Dude? What the fuck?"

Sebastian backs into a row of lockers, the sound akin to a canon blast in the stillness of the empty hallways.

"You're - you're a - a hooker?"

His hand slinks into his pocket, trying to feel the cool metal of his Taurus chain. But even as his fingers grace over the surface, it does nothing to quell the boiling pot of emotion. It doesn't soothe him as it normally would. It just feels grimey, tainted... like him.

"Finn what are you - S-Sebastian?"

Seb somehow hears him through the haze of so many voices chanting like a wall of cacophonous self hate.

"Sebastian. It's not what it looks like. Okay? I - I need you to understand -"

When Kurt reaches over, Sebastian smacks his hand away, the tears refusing to exit. The sudden aloofness overwhelming; taking over like an automatic precaution. The same way it did when he needed to leave his body behind in moments when being spoiled by strange flesh was too much.

"Hey!" Finn roars. Kurt raises his hand in a gesture of silence, quickly stating, "I'm fine, Finn. It's fine."

Karofsky looks torn somewhere between guilt and satisfaction. As if he'd taught Sebastian a lesson for his own good, but was still questioning the validity of his behavior.

"You know. Cubby's right. Stay away from me Princess. Have fun sucking each others dicks."

"Sebastian! Wait!"

"No! Kurt, stay away from him!" Finn bellows while holding Kurt at bay, keeping him from chasing after Sebastian.

"Sebastian! Don't leave! Don't do this!"

But Sebastian had already done it; turned into a vapor as he breathes in the open air outside of the school walls. This was the goodbye that he couldn't muster the words for... that he just couldn't manage to verbalize the other day. Mostly bitter... the sweetness of absolving Kurt of his toxic presence buried underneath so much bitter.

* * *

Eventually he ended up shutting his cell phone off.

Simon would be pissed no doubt. But he couldn't take another incoming text or call from Kurt. Every vibration of his phone provoked a potential tail spin into the exact moment of sad realization that had bowled him over back at McKinley.

He hoped that meeting up with Angelo, the elder deli owner, that succumbing to his routinized sacrifice of sexual favor would curtail this indescribable fluctuation of emotional despair.

But instead of finding a remote area somewhere off the highway, Angelo just continued to drive around.

"Why didn't you stop?" Sebastian inquires half heartedly.

"You're not in the mood."

"I'm always in the mood, baby. You know that."

Angelo shakes his head in a sad manner, clutching the steering wheel tighter as he stares ahead at the road.

"Did I ever tell you that I had a son?"

Sebastian shakes his head.

"Bobby. He was everything that I'd ever hoped for. The most beautiful thing in my life. I honestly couldn't believe that somebody that amazing came from a schmuck like me."

Seb kept his gaze fixated outside the passenger side window, but was listening attentively despite his laxidasical position.

"I lost him to addiction. Overdose. He'd just turned seventeen. I never even knew that he had a problem. He'd gotten pretty decent grades. Held a job afterschool. He always seemed like he had such a good head on his shoulders. I didn't find out till we started going through all of his stuff after the funeral. Saw it all written in his journal. He was so lost. Always felt like I was riding him too much. That he couldn't live up to my expectations. I pushed him too hard, didn't listen enough. I feel regret everyday about it. But in the end, I have to remember that he was becoming his own man. That he chose that path."

When the silence ensues, Sebastian finds his voice.

"So why are you telling me this?"

"Because, no matter what it may seem like, you have control. There's always a choice. And your path doesn't have to be dictated by anyone but you. So what I'm getting at, is that you gotta be the change you want to see. Rule your life in a way that will bring you happiness, kid. Hell, we only get one."

Sebastian didn't respond. In fact, he said nothing for the rest of the ride with the exception of where he could be dropped off at. How Angelo knew, he didn't understand. But his words struck him like a closed fist.

When they finally came to a stop some forty five minutes later, Angelo quietly slipped too many bills in Seb's hand for having only given him a car ride.

The last thing he said to the round bellied man was "thanks," and then the Cadillac drove out of sight.

He's several blocks from the apartment. He decides to take his time, savor the smell of the wet pavement, and have a cigarette as he calmly made his way back to the apartment. He inhaled with flippancy, not really noticing the taste of the smoke. When he turned the corner, he came across two figures loitering in front of his apartment building.

They were an odd pair. One guy looked to be in his late forties, with a rough face that looked almost carved from stone. His eyes nearly jet black if possible, squinty but somehow troubling, offsetting his neatly cut silver strands. His skin slightly olive colored.

The other was the exact opposite: much shorter and younger. School aged even. His brown tresses slicked back by a handful of gel, an eagerness about his face that was mostly concentrated in his light green eyes. He was smiling. To any fool, they would be enraptured by its charm. But Seb knew that there was nothing sweet about it.

The pair reeked of something formidable... Trouble. He could smell it yards away. Sebastian's gut twisted with a sense of impending treachery. He made to walk past them, return to the apartment later, but as he passed by, the elder one called out with a thick accent.

"Oi! Boy-o! C'mere."

"Yeah?" He turned around, keeping his face impassive.

"We're lookin' for someone we know lives here. Man called Simon. D'ya know 'im?"

Sebastian lets out a breezy chortle, his apathetic expression hopefully concealing his inner discomfort. The man sounded Irish judging by the drawling brogue he spoke in.

"Fuck do I look like? Some sort of neighborhood watch or some shit? How am I supposed to know who live's around here?"

"Watch your tongue there. I'd hate for ya to lose it," the smaller man stated coolly, a monotonous tone that somehow felt sincere; like cutting out a strangers tongue was a regular practice as easy as brushing his teeth. He too had an Irish venacular.

"To answer your question, no. I don't know a Simon."

The older man burst out laughing, the younger one following suit; Sebastian growing steadily more uneasy.

Before he could reach for his switch blade, all of the air is knocked out of him courtesy of a swift but very calculated blow to his diaphram by the younger Irishman.

He doubles over and is met by a heavy boot smashing into his shoulder causing him to sprawl out face first on the pavement.

"I wouldn't do that," the older man's voice sounded from above him. Sebastian instantly holds his hands out to his sides when he feels something cold press against his skull. His switch blade remaining untouched in his pocket.

"I got a touchy trigger finger. Might just slip," the younger man said teasingly.

"You tell Simon," the silver haired man drones, "Mr. Neighborhood Watch, that he's gotta couple ol' friends - fam'ly really, who're lookin' for 'im. That we 'ave eyes everywhere. And that it'd be in 'is best interest to contact us. I'm sure he remembers how. Or we'll do much more than have a conversation."

The pressure of tell tale metal pressing into the back of his head disappeared, but he kept his hands obediently trained to his sides.

There's a brief moment of silence except for the shuffling of retreating footsteps, when his side suddenly explodes in pain. He covers his head as several heavy blows rain down on him, coupled by maniacal chuckling.

"A'right, a'right, Rory. Enough. Let's be off."

One last kick resulting in Sebastian coughing out, trying desparately to regain his breath.

"Bye Mr. Watch," the younger one pronounced playfully, almost as if they were actually friends having a friendly exchange. It was unnerving.

A moment passes of which he spends trying to find his rhythm, slowly but surely inhaling and exhaling properly until he recovers. He looks up, noting that that streets were fairly empty. That no one was around. But regardless, not even broad daylight had stopped the pair from pulling a gun on him.

He drags himself to his feet, a whole new onset of panic completely unrelated to the heart fostering itself within him.

* * *

**A/N:** I actually felt the angst in my own fingertips as I wrote this one. Every time you think Seb starts to get it good, I act like a gigantic jerk and make it bad for him. Bad Clef. Bad. I know there has been some back and forth. Moments looking like we're leading toward some happy sexy time between our heroes and than others that are seeping with so much angst and sadness it's blinding. But I really do have this thing with trying to make it seem as realistic as possible. That they don't just jump each others bones with like no prior development, but also that there are moments where the chemistry and teenaged feelings are too strong to ignore (which happens to us all at times - being overwhelmed enough to kiss someone without thinking about the consequence. Or in Kurt's case, how gross it could potentially be since your make out partner kinda sells his body, lol). Either way, I hope you guys dig it and aren't getting too frustrated. By the way, thank you guys from my very soul for the latest series of reviews from the last few chaps. I mean... just, no words really. They were _**A**mazing_! With a capital 'A' son. Please keep them coming! Also... Rory! Thought you'd get a kick of that. The irony surrounding sadistic, scary Rory. Let the darkness unravel...


	15. Chapter 15

Simon has been gone long past his usual time of absence.

Sebastian wonders if he'd already known about being sniffed out, and had decidely tucked tail and run. Leaving them utterly and quite helplessly exposed to whatever misfortune he had spawned, and was too cowardly to accept himself.

He'd tried calling him. He doesn't know why, or what he expected exactly. He figures it's to warn him. But really, it's more likely his own curiousity about what unholy, God awful shit Simon had indirectly gotten them into.

He never answered. He didn't call back.

Sebastian instinctually seeks out the girls.

He's relieved to find them both at home, cheerfully indulging in a casual cooking session; Santana helping Brittany with cutting up a head of lettuce and some other vegetables tailored for a promising salad.

"Hey Sebastard. Just in time for the -"

She trails off, her dark eyes thinning speculatively. "What's wrong?"

"Where's Simon?" Sebastian queries callously.

Santana puts down the knife. The smile she'd been wearing easily slipping off of her face like a jaded mask only to be replaced by a dark veil of scrutiny. Brittany's eyes are glued to him, glazed with unstated dismay.

"Gone. He hasn't been home."

Sebastian huffs in a clear showing of his irritation. Santana notices, immediately supplying a rebuttal to whatever she had long figured Sebastian hadn't said.

"But he should be coming back. You know he has his random AWOL moments. He'll be back."

"Did you see anybody hanging around? Anybody ask you about him?"

"No. Why? What's going on, Seb?"

The tension ever so slightly abates. Not enough to be completely gone, but enough to make his shoulders less fraught with an unyielding strain; the firm anxiety withering just a fraction. No one had harrassed the girls. He feels grateful for small mercies.

"I think he got into it with one of his dealers or something. Couple of guys were looking for him earlier. Some Irish fuckers who talked like they were straight off the boat or -"

"Seriously? With like - actual accents? In Ohio? Okay, so many Leprechaun jokes just popped into my head right now -"

"San. They were serious. Whoever they were. And yeah, they had accents. Anyway just - just keep your eyes peeled. If anybody you don't know starts asking questions about him, or looks like they're trying to corner you or - you know what. Better yet. I think you guys should just stay inside the apartment. At least until I can figure some shit out."

"Wha - Seb, you know that's not even an option -"

"Today it is. Okay? I don't care. If he comes back, just put it all on me. Whatever. But in the mean time, stay put."

Santana is leaning into the countertop, her hands spread across it as she eyes him silently. Brittany has unconsciously moved closer to her, twining her arm through Santana's and snaking into her side.

Santana's stiffened posture eases a bit as she warily gazes over at the timid girl melting into her.

"Are you sure?" She finally questions with less heat. No traces of sarcasm or humor inferred within the exclamation.

Sebastian nods. "More than."

Santana... Ever knowing and so adept at reading Sebastian like one of his many books, keeps her unwavering gaze steady while analyzing him. She knows that there's more to it that he's not saying. But thankfully, she settles on the option of taking his word for it based on her failure to pose further inquiry.

"Okay. We're gonna eat soon. Go wash your hands at least. You smell like an ash tray. I'm not into cajun style, tobacco kissed salad, El Twinko."

The snarkiness was like a remedy cooling the heat emanating from the bruises on his back. Bruises in the shape of commando boot imprints. Washing away the lurking remnants of fragmented pain that he didn't dare share aloud; that he wouldn't share, because he didn't want to scare them or prompt any unnecessary fear.

He really loved Santana in moments like this. When she gave him the one thing that was still absolutely hers to give away freely: her trust. Unhindered and without question.

It reminds him of the first time he'd finally let go of his jealousy when the new girl had captured his brother's attention. The first time he had held her shaking frame when she relayed her grief in wrenching sobs about losing her sister, and the foreign touches of strangers had defiled her into an empty void that no amount of snark could eradicate.

The moment he realized that all they really had was each other. Until Brittany came along of course.

* * *

The girls had already gone to bed, tangled in each other on the mattress crowding the living room floor. Simon was still gone.

His fingers brush absently across the tattered, browning pages of his copy of _Where the Red Fern Grows_. The third time in a single week he has his nose in it. The third time he's again going to finish it. His green eyes flowing over each sentence by the dim light of the lamp positioned on the feeble end table supporting its weight.

He sighs, then pulls his phone from his pocket, thinking of sending another text to his intemperate and still very much missing brother.

The point? Something to do besides wallow and wonder. Because he certainly wasn't expecting a reply.

But his hand stutters when the screen alights, Kurt's pet name flashing like a signal fire. He swallows audibly, his heart heavy with the burden of why he should and shouldn't check the texts.

He eventually comes to a compromise, flicking over the last one and pushing the button to open the text for his view.

_**You're not nothing. Please know that. I already do.**_

He feels the unmistakable burning behind his eyes.

After all of the 'I'm sorry's', and the 'please don't run away's', this had been Princess' final thought. It was full of exasperation and a hint of deflating desparation. But it somehow communicated what all of that other shit hadn't.

Sebastian lifts himself from the couch, the apartment suddenly feeling too cramped and claustrophobic. He slips on his jacket and carefully locks the door behind himself. He then makes his way toward the roof in hopes of having a smoke. A method to barricade the stupid warmth behind his eyes from leaking free.

He takes a moment to breathe in the night air, letting it soothe the growing heat coiling through his body like an angry sea.

A sudden sound catches his attention, his hand reaching instinctively in his pocket to grip his switch blade.

"Fancy meeting you here little brother."

"S-Simon? What are you doing here?"

He holds up the cigarette as if in answer, the smoke spiraling in soft ringlets that float out into the atmosphere as carefree as his brother's light tone. "Same as you if I know you well enough."

"I've been trying to reach you all day -"

"Phone died. But I got a few of your messages before it did."

"Then you know it was an emergency," Sebastian uttered darkly.

Simon smirks. "Everything in life is an emergency. Urgent, necessary. Filled with an absolute sense of impatience until it's exploding and burying us alive."

Sebastian's eyes narrow. "Are you high?"

"Oddly enough... No. I'm high on life as they say little brother."

Sebastian takes a cautious step forward.

"How long have you been here?"

"An hour. Maybe a few. Time seems to stop up here. Like it suspends, and nothing matters because it's frozen... except for you. And your thoughts."

Simon was being strangely introspective. Seb was still sorting out whether it was meant to be playful or truly sincere as he comes to a decision.

Sebastian has made his way over to him, the words wrapping around him like silken threads of understanding, vigilantly reeling him in. Because yeah - he knows exactly what his brother means. This place was somehow a sacred resolution in all of its dirt infested, broken humility... a fucking rooftop. Funny.

Even more ironically comical... the surge of relief at the sight of Simon actually standing there. Seemingly unharmed and just - there. He hates that he feels that way. But then the logical part of his brain reminds him that Simon was still his family. That there were moments, however brief and easily forgotten amongst the variable barrage of unhappy ones, that were genuine and skimming the surface of what one might label as happy.

"Si?"

Simon looks slightly taken aback at the term of endearment. Sebastian didn't know where it had come from. An unwelcome Freudian slip likely spilling over from his recent reminiscence.

"Yeah, brother?"

"There were some guys. Two of them. They were Irish."

Sebastian notes the sudden clenching of his brother's jaw at the disclosure, the jaw muscles contracting and flexing habitually, but says nothing about the behavior. He simply waits. Simon gives no indication however that he plans to reply as he takes another long drag of his cigarette.

"Do you owe them money or something? Because we can figure something out. Maybe I could - I don't know, go into the city or something. Get more business -"

He pauses at the sound of Simon's bitter chortle, smoke expelling with the reaction.

"Nah. I wouldn't worry about them." Another slow inhale, the tip of the cigarette glowing brightly.

"I don't think they're fucking around, Simon. Whoever the hell they are or whatever it's about. We should probably -"

"How's your porcelain doll?" Simon interrupts.

"Kurt?"

"That'd be the one. Your, uh - Princess, as you've so brillantly coined him."

"I - I don't know. I haven't talked to him. I'm pretty sure I won't be hearing from him anymore."

"Hm. That's a shame." Simon flicked his cigarette butt off the side of the roof and turned to glance directly at Sebastian. "He was different. Special. For you, I mean. Wasn't he?"

Sebastian felt his heart picking up pace. Images of Simon pressing the cool metal of Seb's switch blade into his neck. Whispered threats and promises of the worst kind of terror assaulting his senses.

He had been the one who had instructed him to forget the kid. To pretend that he'd never existed. Granted Simon's mood and logic fluctuated so casually from the influence of substances or just a general desire for entertainment, no matter how twisted the provocation - who knew where he really stood on the situation.

But right now, that other Simon: the misguided, self serving, vile version, wasn't who was staring at him.

That wasn't who's question was currently being posed, full of an open ended empathy that was cajoling Seb's inner child and giving him a boost over the thick walls that caged him. The child who still believed that there was still some semblance of good buried deep down inside of this man.

This person was someone who was simply asking because - well, that's what a big brother would do. So, he answers. As honestly as his natural penchant toward caution would allow.

"Maybe. But it doesn't matter. You know that."

Simon grows quiet, pensive. A wave of something indescribable stretching in time with the unexpected smirk.

"Because you spread your legs to earn a buck. Right?"

Sebastian swallows down the lump that had formed in his throat. "Yeah."

"Ah, little brother. Brother, brother, brother. This world is interesting isn't it? We get put in these boxes against our will. Boxes that have clear, transparent walls. So we can see all of the supposed possibilities and hope for the things that are just out of our reach. We get to look on and long for the outside. But never really touch it. Never truly be a part of it. It's fucked up. But that's just how it is."

"So what? We just stay in our boxes and that's that?"

"You make the box as homey as possible. Because that's where you live. One day at a time, it starts to become comfortable. Because it's what you know. Then you realize that the outside ain't all that great anyway. Sure it may look greener. Smell sweeter. But it'll break you faster than those walls that keep you locked in. Because you're just not meant to be out there. It's cruel, and judgemental, and a far cry from the pretty that it blinded you with when you were looking from behind enemy lines. And what you got inside those walls... that's what's safe."

Sebastian doesn't know what to say. The words won't come together to make anything remotely coherent.

"Princess... He was different for you. I knew it. He looked too green. Smelled too sweet. You wanted that. To have what was outside the box."

It wasn't a question so much as an observation. Sebastian bowed his head, Simon's words compressing him like a mattress spring. Tightening him into a tense ball of uncertainty.

"I want you to have what's pretty and happy in this world little brother. I really do. But what's really fucked up... is that the world doesn't want that for you. To the world, you'll always be somebody's whore in a glass box."

Sebastian's mouth is pressed in an impossibly thin line. His muscles contracted stiffly. His posture impliable as the emotion writhes within him.

But this time... it's different.

_**Yo****u're not nothing. Please know that. I already do.**_

This time defeat takes a back seat to his relishing anger. He's not nothing. Kurt doesn't think so. And suddenly... that's more than enough.

He immediately turns on his heel, his body unearthing as if the spring had uncoiled and launched him into action.

"Where are you going?"

"Out. I'll be back later."

Simon simply exhales, a light chortle leaving his lips as if he knows exactly where Sebastian is heading and simply finds it amusing.

Not that Sebastian would've stopped if he would've said anything. Fuck this box shit.

He turns back to address his still smirking brother when he pulls the door open.

"Whatever you've done that has those assholes searching for you - fix it. We don't need to be dragged into it."

Simon tilts his head in the way of some sort of a salute. A respectful acknowledgement that Sebastian doesn't return before rushing out the door.

* * *

He hadn't had enough money for a taxi to take him the entire way. Plus the cab driver was sort of a penny pinching, unhelpful, douche.

But that wouldn't deter him. So he threw the balled up wad of the cash that he did have, practically at the back of the guy's head in his haste to hurry to his destination, and took off running.

He had run for nearly a mile straight. Had to be by his calculations.

His lungs burned rebelliously. His smoking habit haunting him with each echoing step pounding over the concrete. But he somehow pushes through it and keeps going.

When he makes it there, the familiar midnight black Navigator parked out front and the carefully manicured bushes trimmed to perfection, he collapses in a heap on the curb.

He pulls his cell from his back pocket trying desparately to regain his composure. He manages to scroll through his contacts and type up a quick text announcing that he was outside before sending it to Kurt.

He waits... and waits...

After more than twenty minutes have passed, he sends another one.

The same result. And now he knew that he only had one option. Well, two really - but hell if he was going to the front door and actually formally announcing his arrival at this hour.

He sneaks through the side gate, hopping over it easily enough without incident. He makes it back to where he knows the miniscule square window is probably located. He scans the area and spots it, nestled near the base of the structure in between a few rose bushes. So dimunitive in the expanse of the rather large house.

He glides over, hoping that this didn't scare the living shit out of the kid and lead to another encounter with the Ice King... or dumb and dumbest in all of his gawky glory.

Sebastian kneels down and then taps the glass hard enough to be heard, but light enough to not disturb the other occupants of the house.

"Kurt," He hisses out, tapping again when there's no immediate answer. "Kurt. It's Sebastian."

He thinks he hears quiet shuffling coming from inside, like the movement of someone dragging themselves out of bed.

He steps away, absolutely delighted when the distinct sound of the window being slightly pulled open is heard; though it was too dark from this angle to see past the dingy screen covering the opening.

"Wha - what is with you and these surprise visits? They never end well. Not to mention that it's well past midnight."

"I know. I'm sorry. I tried to call and text you -"

"I saw that," he retorts in a clipped tone. Of course he'd seen; but why would he answer? He had every right in the world not to.

"Right." Sebastian cleared his throat awkwardly, suddenly finding his mouth too dry.

"So?" Kurt prompts, clearly disinterested in the answer.

"Right. Um - can I, uh - talk to you? Face to face."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Just for a minute. Then if you want - I - I'll never bother you again. But I need you to hear me out. Just hear me out tonight. That's all I ask. Please, Kurt."

He sounded pathetic. He knew it. His voice raw and hoarse with pent emotion. He wasn't sure if it was that, or his use of Princess' actual name, but he hears a preceptible sigh seep through the screen and a quick mumble of, "meet me out front," before the window slides closed again.

He would seriously fist pump in excitement like some goober villain character from one of those sappy 80's movies about teen love, but he's technically trespassing and not exactly keen on bringing unwanted attention from any neighbors... or worse yet, any tool wielding, fool hardy daddy's looking to reek painful havoc on his body with said tools.

When Kurt steps outside dressed in familiar silk pajama's, hair slightly mussed from sleep, and carefully pulls the front door closed, Sebastian didn't realize how much he had nearly lost until that moment.

He wants to kiss him fiercely. Bruising his soft lips as a means of laying claim to this beautiful boy. But in lieu of doing so, he simply waits, doing everything in his power to not wrap him up and never let go. Including keeping his hands shoved deeply in his pockets.

It felt weird to not feel his necklace containing the Taurus symbol in its usual place. Truth be told, it had found another home around his neck over the last day. Strategically placed underneath his shirt. He'd known that he would need to draw strength from it. So why not have it be near the place where his resolution was weakest? That stupid organ that just keeps on beating no matter how sopped with fucking loss it is.

"I'll give you a minute. I'd hate for my dad to wake up and decide to conveniently forget about that little truce you guy's came up with last time. He tends to have memory lapses when it comes to the idea of me and my virtue."

Sebastian grins, his eyes alight with a hopefulness so full, it was practically overwhelming him where he stood. Right now, he would walk on glass if Kurt asked him to. Not that he was going to tell him that... unless it came to that of course. There was still a smidgen of dignity buried inside of himself somewhere. But only barely.

"Right. No, I understand. So, I guess I'd better make it quick."

Kurt's arms are crossed firmly over his chest, his glare steely. But that's all he gives him. No threats or sarcastic jabs. Just an icy look that's clearly a sign for Sebastian to continue before he changed his mind.

"I suck at this. Not at talking, I guess. I do that all the time. I know how to use my words. I know exactly what to say to get what I want from people. But not this time. Because I want something that I've never had, or ever actually wanted before now. And I'm totally fucking tongue tied."

Kurt's posture stays the same, but his blue eyes feel less prickly against his skin. Like they had softened enough to not pierce.

"I'm a - I'm a whore. I fuck people for money. I've been doing it since I was twelve or thirteen years old. And yeah - there's probably hundreds. I don't know. I never counted."

Sebastian's throat is constricting, the words burning as they pour out of him. His voice coming out in a breathy whisper as he wills himself to proceed.

"I can't erase that. That will always be a part of who am I - who I was."

Kurt's arms slowly unravel themselves from the guarded position, his mouth parting slightly.

"I don't even know where to begin. I have no idea how to be anything else. But I want to. I want to more than anything I've ever wanted in my whole life. And I - I don't know what that's gonna look like. And I'm so - just - so fucking scared."

The emotion siphons into a sob, but he swallows it down, the tears careening down his cheeks as he thinks of Simon's words from before. Kurt's eyes are leaking as well, but his resolve is still in tact enough for him to keep his distance.

No. He didn't have to be some tragic boy trapped in a sad little box. He could find his happiness. He deserved to find it. At least in this moment... right now... he feels like he could deserve it.

"That part of me. It's just a part. It isn't me. I'm more than that. At least, I - I want to be more than that. You make me want more for myself, Kurt. And even if you tell me that you want nothing to do with me, you've given me that. You've given me the strength to want more, and feel like I can actually have it. And I want that for Santana and Brittany too. I want us to really live."

Kurt's hand is covering his mouth, his face flushed as he cries earnestly.

Sebastian sniffs, using the back of his hand to swipe at his own face and abstain the steady flow of moisture signalling his crushing vulnerability.

God this being open shit really sucks balls. It hurts - deeply, but also somehow feels good. Like a lifetime of hiding behind his biting comments and uncaring demeanor was diminishing. Cracking into uneven chunks ready to be washed away with each confessed word.

Kurt was motionless, his eyes averting Sebastian as he stood in silence. Sebastian took that as his cue to leave.

"Alright. I'm gonna - I'm gonna go. So - take it easy, Princess. And you know, thank you."

Sebastian turns away, his heart having dropped somewhere in his shoes probably at this point, but only makes it a few steps before a hand is clutching desparately to his jacket.

"C'mere," Kurt blurts out through tears.

"Yeah?" He breathes.

"Yes. Come here. You absolutely idiotic, sweet, stupid, adorable, infuriating, slutastic, amazing person who I just - I adore with everything in me."

And Sebastian let's Kurt wrap him up in a tight hug, both of them slumping down on the porch step in a messed tangle of limbs, gripping and caressing and just... holding each other. Sebastian knew that it was twinkishly skittle-worthy of him, not that he would say it aloud, but he let himself cry. Openly, and without the fear of being rejected for maybe the first time in his life.

Kurt stroked his hair, and planted several soft kisses along his hairline. Shushing him with sweet words of comfort while Sebastian just let it out, clinging to Kurt. Fingers digging into his silk clad back as if he would suddenly disappear.

They stay like that for a while. But it definitely hadn't been the most quiet of interactions. So when the front door opens, Sebastian isn't entirely shocked. Scared shitless maybe. But not shocked.

"Kurt - what?" Burt Hummel pauses. Taking in the scene with a severe bearing.

"What's going on?" He drones in a way that could only mean one thing: that he knows... He knows what Sebastian is, and is currently wrestling with the prospect of pulling his son up by the scruff of his collar and dragging him indoors only to be locked away for good.

"Dad. Sebastian - he - can he please stay here? Just for tonight?"

"What happened?"

"He just - he needs somewhere to stay for now. He can't go back," Kurt says with conviction, his eyes meeting Sebastian's at the remark.

Sebastian doesn't say anything. But he tries to make his eyes communicate where his mouth had failed. That, yep - he wasn't going back. Not to that life. Not to Simon. The only exception being to gather the girls and do his best to convince them to see whatever gay beam of light had touched down on him to produce this newfound belief of living better.

Somehow they were going to make it. Together. If Burt Hummel didn't kill him before that.

"Sir. I - I don't know if you know everything -"

"Oh, I know. _Every_thing."

Sebastian ridiculously gives himself a point in his mind for his ability to discern this fact before it was confirmed. Seems that Skipper, the gigantor teen himself, had probably taken it upon himself to let Daddy Hummel in on the news. Again, not shocking.

"Your whole charade about being in that gay and lesbian club. Mentoring Kurt. Being some sort of role model," He scoffed. "I bet that night I chased you outta here, that was just some other story, right? You being hurt like that. You didn't get jumped by some random gay bashing scum, did you?"

"No, sir."

"Your pimp do that?"

"Dad -" Kurt tries.

"Kurt. Don't," Burt warns darkly, immediately silencing Kurt who was still looking powerfully mutinous despite immediately quieting down.

"No," Sebastian mutters. "Not that night at least. Just some, John - I mean, uh - a potential client... who invited a few unexpected friends. Apparently wanted my money more than my company."

Burt's scowl deepens. "I want you to be straight with me on this. Because if you aren't... I swear - I can't be held responsible for what I do. Have you two - have you done anything?"

"Dad!" Kurt placates, obviously mortified by the implication.

"No, no. No, sir. Kurt and I - we... No," Sebastian stutters out.

"I don't like whatever this is between you two. As his father, you have no idea how uncomfortable and in all honesty - down right disgusted I am with the idea of you even knowing him. Let alone touching him in anyway."

"Dad that's not fair -"

"Kurt. I'm trying very hard right now, not to murder this kid on my own front porch. So I suggest you don't say anything."

Kurt swallows. His blue eyes shining with both hurt and an unmistakable lividness.

"You come to my house. Lie to my family. Sleep in my kid's bed. And have the nerve on top of all of that, to be some street walker. Making money off of the tax payers dime. Having sex, with dudes who probably have families. Kids, like mine. You have the balls, to come in my house, and tell me that you _actually_ care about my kid - my only son?"

Sebastian is standing now. Kurt standing with him, keeping a firm grip on his arm.

"Mr. Hummel, with all due respect. Do you think that if I had walked in your house, accepted a glass of lemonade and exchanged pleasantries about the weather before slipping in a 'oh and by the way, I'm a prosititue,' you would've been more accepting or would've taken it any better?"

Burt huffs, but refrains from retorting. Sebastian knew that he had him there.

"Really. I get it. I know what I am. And I know what people like you think of me. Hell, what everybody thinks of me the moment they find out what I am. I've had to do and be on the receiving end of some pretty despicable shit, that I wouldn't wish upon my worst enemy. And I'm not just talking about the sex. I grew up in a world where you have to do what you have to do to survive. A man like you, I figure you can understand that. What it's like to not be handed things. To have to work for them -"

"No, I do understand that. Truly, I do. But not in that way. Not by selling yourself. Work to me, is in making an honest living and sacrificing for your family. _You_ are the representation of my worst nightmare for my kid. I don't want him around that kind of poison. No father would."

Sebastian looks over at Kurt, who seems to be folding in on himself, torn and broken by his dad's words. Seb steels himself, pushing to continue despite the riling emotion.

"Mercedes asked me once why I do it. Why I sell myself. But I think she figured it out before I'd left. Family. That's why I do it, sir. I sacrifice for them. Just like you do for him. Because they're all I've got. No matter how backwards, or toxic or devastating - they're it."

"Dad," Kurt whimpers through his pooling tears. "You're not just some father. You're _my_ father. And I know - that what you're doing right now, is because you love me so, so much. But I'm not a little boy anymore. I've grown up. And I - I have friends and a life of my own -"

"I don't want him to use you, Kurt. I don't want you to get hurt -"

"You just have to trust me. Trust that you raised me right. So much so, that I've learned to do the right thing. Even when it's the hard thing. And what's right, is for me to be there for Sebastian - for us to be there for each other. Because believe it or not, I'm not the one fixing him, or whatever it may look like. We're sort of - fixing each other, I guess."

Sebastian captures Kurt's gaze, not caring that Burt was probably seething at the gesture, waiting for the moment that he could wrap his calloused hands around Sebastian's throat and squeeze until his own blood vessels rupture from the the thrill alone.

Kurt is holding his hand now, fingers intertwined bravely in the face of his furious guardian.

Burt stares at them for a long moment, gnawing his thin bottom lip as if he's on the verge of chewing it completely off. Finally, he speaks.

"You can stay. Just for tonight. But you keep your ass on that couch or I will not hesitate to introduce you to my lug wrench while you sleep. The biggest one. Got me?"

Sebastian nods frantically. His skin still partially sticky from the dried up tear tracks staining his face.

"Good. Take a few minutes to, um - collect yourselves. I'll go get the couch ready for your_ one night stay_," Burt emphasizes in a low growl.

When Daddy Hummel disappears back inside the house, Sebastian gives into the pressure of his light headedness, swaying on the spot. Kurt holds him steady, slowly bringing them back down into a sitting position. Their hands still clasped tightly together.

"You okay?" Kurt questions, concern eminent in his careful gaze.

"Is that rhetorical?" Seb manages to choke out, something between an exhale and a whimpering laugh.

"Literal. But I can see your point."

"Right," Sebastian whispers. "I'm still here. Looking at you. Take it that means I didn't cross over to the other side after being bludgeoned to death."

"No. You're still here. With me," and Kurt punctuates the statement by giving Seb's hand an affectionate squeeze.

Sebastian leans his head on Kurt's shoulder, an air of relief somehow overtaking him after the crazed anxiety of possibly being tooled to death had relinquished itself.

"You know. You're lucky," Sebastian states thoughtfully following a lengthy pause.

"What, that I'm not being dragged kicking and screaming into the house by a long chain connected to my chastity belt and immediately imprisoned?"

"No. Well - that too. But mostly to have him for a dad. You're lucky."

Kurt leans his cheek into the crown of Sebastian's head.

"Yeah. I am."

A comforting silence renews itself between them.

"Sebastian?"

"Hm?"

"Some of the things he said -"

"Forget it. I told you. You're lucky. Because of the things he said. _All_ of them. Let's leave it at that. Okay, Princess?"

He feels Kurt nod against him. "Yeah. Okay."

* * *

**A/N:** Quick disclaimer: there's a line or two that are born of the Glee writers, one said by Santana (the Leprechaun line - though in the show she say's 'gay' not Leprechaun) and the other by Burt (not wanting that kind of poison around) so I wanted to make sure that I give credit where it's due. I couldn't resist using a couple of canon character lines since the opportunity sort of presented itself in this chap. So lots and lots of dialogue in this chappy. Fun for me as always. Please review and shoot me your thoughts! Definitely wanna know what y'all are thinking. Much love!


	16. Chapter 16

_"Stop! I - I have to go with them."_

_The tall, indistinguishable figure just shook his head. His grip on Sebastian's shoulder tightening as he moved to pull away._

_They were yards ahead, but still close enough to where Seb could catch up... He could still make it._

_"Let me go!"_

_Again, a subtle shake of the head from the faceless man._

_Kurt, no longer the child version of himself, but the current day one was watching with sad blue eyes. The blonde woman clutching his hand and leading him into the expanse of gold brush._

_"No! Kurt. Wait! Don't go!"_

_He turns when a cruel laugh echoes in the still air._

_"Did you really think you were gonna be with him little brother?"_

_He turns, still unable to shrug off the stranger's fierce grip, when Simon materializes, sauntering forward beside the man._

_"Did you really think you could have him? I own you. Don't forget."_

_"Fuck you!"_

_"He's right."_

_Sebastian looks up with wide eyes. Burt Hummel, dressed in his work uniform and dragging a lug wrench by his side suddenly emerges._

_"You're not good enough. And you know it, kid. You shouldn't fight it."_

_His eyes trail over the figures standing idly behind the three men._

_"They're right. We aren't meant to be there." Santana voices softly, nodding her head at the breathtaking fields beyond._

_"Stay with us, Seb," Brittany adds. "We need you."_

_"I - no - I... I can't. I don't want this. I want to be -"_

_He's cut off by the metal rod crushing against his throat. Burt Hummel holding him back by force with the wrench, then other hands grabbing at him, pulling him against his will._

_"No! Kurt! Kurt!"_

_The other boy had been watching, trying to wait. But the woman was impatient and eventually, he was disappearing into the lush field ahead still holding her hand._

_The ground was opening up, the hands dragging him down into the hole. The soil enveloping him as he descended, gasping and struggling._

"KURT!"

...

"Whoa! Dude. Dude, wake up!"

Sebastian scrambles up against the arm rest of the couch, breathing heavily as a tall figure shakes his shoulder.

"Dude, stop! Calm down! It was a dream, man. You were dreaming."

Sebastian swallows, wiping at his sweat slickened forehead as the hazy figure hovering above him comes into focus.

"Relax. Okay? Whatever it was - it isn't real."

Seb feels his heart trembling to a slower pace, his breathing less erratic as Skipper's concerned expression becomes distinguishable. The tall figure now sitting at the other end of the couch, hand still managing to gently clutch Seb's shoulder.

"You alright?"

Sebastian nods, a spastic gesture that causes Finn to breathe out a sigh of relief.

"Okay. Cool."

"W-where's Kurt?"

"With Burt. At the tire shop. He sort of forced him to go."

"And your mom?"

"Oh. At work too. She should be off in a few hours, though."

Both sets of eyes trail over Finn's hand that's still settled on Seb's shoulder. Finn mumbles a quick apology and brings his hand back as if it had been burned.

"So it's just us here?"

"Just us, dude."

The silence becomes uncomfortable. Neither really knowing what to say after such an awkward initial encounter.

"Well, at least you didn't bend my dick this time around."

Finn evokes a nervous but genuine giggle.

"Yeah. Least I didn't do that."

"Um - well. I guess I can get my stuff together and get out of here."

"Wait - why?"

Sebastian gives him an incredulous glare. "Um - probably because Kurt is gone and Burt told me on the pain of my death that me staying wasn't gonna be a habit."

"Oh. Got it. But - wait, Burt told me to like - keep you here."

"What?"

"Yeah. That you didn't need to rush off. He wants you to stay till he comes back from work. I told him I'd sort of keep an eye on you in the mean time."

"So you're basically my designated babysitter? Get the fuck outta here," Sebastian sneers.

"Uh - I can't. I - um - like, live here."

"It's just an expression Gigantor. It doesn't actually mean - you know what. Never mind."

Finn suddenly elicits a timidness that causes his large shoulders to slump.

"I - I kinda owe you an apology, dude."

"For what?"

He swallows audibly and turns to face him, the coffee colored eyes softened by a sense of anticipatory disappointment.

"Burt goin' all Punisher on you. I kinda told him about - you know - _you_. What you do and all."

"Hm. Didn't figure that one out. I just thought the Ice King got a thrill out of threatening to murder people."

"Oh. Uh - no."

Sarcasm was seriously lost on this dude. It seemed that Kurt's taste in guys had been questionable way before Sebastian had ever crossed his path.

"It's just - you gotta see it on our side, dude. You kinda like - sell your body for money. It's not an easy thing for anyone to wrap their mind around. But I get that you have your reasons. And Kurt definitely cares about you. And he's my bro, so... you know, I'll have his back in this. I'll accept you as long as he does. Unless you really are just trying to use him. Then I'll just break your legs or something."

"Not my dick? Too bad."

Finn's eyes widen.

"A joke. Whore's honor. And it was gonna have to come out anyway. Guess it was better it happened sooner than later."

"Yeah. I guess."

The silence resurfaces.

"So, you're probably hungry. You like fruit loops?"

Sebastian snorts at this. The kid was truly an idiot. But anyone could see that his heart was made up of Grinch like proportions after his Christmas revelation involving kindness.

"Love 'em."

Finn grins in response. "Cool."

* * *

Sebastian had never really been exposed to video games. He remembers having a playstation once. Maybe a few years back; only a few games to go with it. A racing game and some other pointless adventure rpg.

He had burned through them both in a few weeks.

The entertainment value had worn down too easily for him. He ended up leaving the console and games behind when they had abruptly vacated their temporary residence at a motel outside of some back water town in Indiana... St. Paul, if he recalls right.

He remembers Simon yelling a lot, making them grab whatever they could in a span of three minutes... too much heat building around them; their reputation spreading to the wrong people and leading to their sudden upheaval to escape any potential investigation.

It was weird, but he thinks he briefly understands why teenaged boys find this shit appealing.

The stupidly entranced look on Gigantor's face illuminates the obvious sense of accomplishment that comes from conquering a video game; a world where adequacy was measured by pulling good grades, making your Mom proud, and beating your latest high score.

It was a world Sebastian had never understood.

Sebastian snorts to himself which causes Finn to lose concentration, smirking over at him.

"What?"

"You must masturbate a lot, right?"

Finn's cheeks emblazon, his eyes skirting back over the screen.

"What the hell dude? Where'd that come from?"

"It came from the fact that you're getting way too much satisfaction from blowing shit up in a fake ass simulated world. You must never get laid."

"I've managed alright. Definitely no where near you, though."

"Funny, dick breaker."

Finn's smile spreads thickly, a notable pride swelling at being able to one up Sebastian no doubt.

He settles into an easy content as he too returned to battling the oncoming hordes of zombies swarming at them from all angles. It was... nice, he supposed.

He thinks of Brittany and her entanglement in the dance game from when she and Santana had practically invited themselves over here before. He suddenly gets it.

Sebastian is caught off guard by an unexpected pair of zombies who launch at him from behind, draining the last of his life bar.

"I'm out."

"Damn. Your continues are done too."

"That's fine. I can only take this mind numbing shit for so long. I'll go check on Carole."

Sebastian rises from the couch and retreats into the kitchen, the loud bangs and zombie screeches melting into the background.

Carole is staring at the coffee cup in her hand, sitting at the kitchenette table, completely forfeiting to her inner thoughts.

"Hey."

She looks up, a weak smile ushering over her lips.

"Hey. Want a cup?"

"No thanks. I think my brain needs to slow down. Too much stimulation."

Carole's eyes glisten with apprehension. He was hoping that this sort of look wouldn't have manifested so soon after her finding out about his occupation. But, there it was. She would keep looking at him differently. They always did.

"Oh - I mean, you know - too much stimulation from zombie attacks."

"Of course."

Sebastian begins to think that he should return back to the living room as he stands there uncertainly.

"Least you can do is join me. Coffee free or not."

Seb nods with a wry smile, pulling a chair free and settling down across from her.

The silence was interesting. It wasn't foreboding or uncomfortable. It wasn't compatible with elation either. It was brimming within neutral ground: somewhere a billowing sense of the inevitable fostering itself between them. Carole takes the silence on head first.

"Your phone - I didn't mean to look at it. But since you were charging it in here I saw the screen light up a few times. The name Santana came up more than once. Thought you'd want to know."

"Oh. Thanks. I'll give her a call in a bit."

Thankfully Finn had an older charger that happened to fit his phone. He needed to have his cell; to arm himself for the impending extraction attempt of his girls.

"Um - Carole?"

"Yeah?"

"I fucked up. I'm sorry."

He decides against omitting the curse word. What was the point when that sort of behavior was probably expected of him now that she knows the truth.

She sips from her mug, then places it down with a heavy sigh.

"I don't blame you for telling me what you did. I get why you did it. Not that it wasn't disappointing to eventually learn the truth -"

"I know, I'm sorry, I didn't -"

She holds her hand up in a gesture of silence which he swiftly abides, swallowing down all of the apologies that were searing his esophagus, yearning to escape.

Her eyes were identical to Finn's: that same coffee colored hue that was currently bright with something akin to regret, sadness. She was steeling herself for whatever her next disclosure would be. Seb could tell.

"I lost Finn's real dad. But not in the way that he thinks."

Seb poises himself, shifting forward as he watches her carefully.

"He thinks that he died some hero's death in Iraq. A war hero. The truth is, he died after he had already been dishonorably discharged for something - I - I never knew what exactly. But whatever it was - he sort of, lost his mind. Couldn't take the memories of it I guess. He became an addict and died of an overdose just after Finn's first birthday."

A tear slips down her cheek which she hastily wipes away.

"I know that it's horrible - me not telling him the truth about it. But I figure, why take away everything - all of the good that his dad truly was before - just to justify the last bad few years of his life. Why can't Finn just have that? You know? At least have a good view of the man he would never have in real life."

"Do you - do you think you'll ever tell him?"

Carole sniffs, wiping at her eyes with a measured smile. One that didn't quite reach her wet eyes.

"I don't know. Maybe one day. But for now - maybe some things are better left unsaid."

"So you think the lie was better? My lie, I mean."

She grows quiet, contemplating him over her mug as she takes a long draw.

"At the time. Maybe. But the truth, as hard as it can be, will always be better when the time is right for it."

He was dreading the answer. He knew how Burt felt, but for some reason, he honestly thought her admittance, hearing the words out of Carole's mouth, of what he was honestly expecting her to say, would probably break his already chafed and tortured heart cleanly in half. In their short time of knowing each other, he had really grown quite fond of the woman.

"It's better for me to leave him alone, right?"

Her smile falters, a grimace replacing it; tired and weary looking. They both knew who 'him' meant... the familiar blue eyes crisp and alluring in his mind's eye.

"Honestly?"

He nods, his chest swelling with the pain he kept gulping down in hopes of ridding the potential sobs that were threatening to surface. Breaking free and turning him into a sloppy mess of girlish release.

"Yes. For all of the logical reasons. Yes."

He feels it... his heartbreak must be loud enough for the neighbors to hear, it's so suffocatingly loud to his own.

"But -"

Sebastian looks up, catching her eye, a miniscule portion of hope blazing.

"Whoever said that the best things in life are the logical ones?"

He smiles, the tears welling as he struggles to find his words.

"I - I..."

She stands from her chair and blankets him in her arms. He exhales and can't muster any response other than to let her.

"You're not alone, sweetheart. Okay? You're not. Not anymore. I don't know you. But I want to know whatever you're willing to tell me. And it's not just Kurt you're getting. You're stuck with all of us. The whole Hudson-Hummel clan -"

"But Burt -"

"He'll come around. Just give him some time. As long as you stay honest from here on out. And really do everything to do what it is you said you wanted... to leave that stuff behind so you can try living differently. And I have to say - just like Kurt or Finn, I want what's best for you. And honey, I think we might be it. Or at least we could be. If you'll just let us in."

"C-Carole... I don't know. I - I want to say, yes. You don't know how badly I do. But I don't want to burden you guys. It's just - not as easy as that -"

"Maybe not. But walking away? Probably the hardest part - is definitely the start. And you'll never be a burden if we're offering. Whatever comes, we'll learn to handle it together."

And he couldn't think of an argument. Well - that wasn't exactly true. He could think of about twenty, maybe more. But none of the reasons could combat, or even dare try to combat the things that she had said. They just felt ironclad and impenetrable. Something about a mother figure saying something like that... it was of a higher power. A truth that held strong and fast against anything, because it was a mom saying it. And she was saying it to him.

"We'll talk to Burt when he gets home. Okay?"

He nods. It's all he can manage to do. How he hasn't melted into a puddle at her feet, he'll never know. But they stayed there like that. Her hugging him and him accepting it, letting himself really feel it for a while.

He thinks about his dreams. The woman who was always just out of his reach. This moment, was so much better than the hold of any dream guardian, because it was real. He could smell her light flowerly perfume clinging to the collar of her uniform shirt, and feel the warmth of her body heat, and her general aura of perfect kindness that he's sure he noted in Finn's goofy smile and warm eyes.

No dream woman could ever give him this.

* * *

He felt outnumbered.

Even though he was only looking across the table at one man. He still felt utterly, completely, and helplessly outnumbered.

After a certain amount of arguing, huffing, and uncomfortable stare downs, Kurt agreed to leave out of the house to avoid eaves dropping and give the grown ups their fair time to thoroughly interrogate Sebastian. Apparently the teen had decided on spending some time at the mall with Mercedes. Finn had also left to continue his gaming escapades at that Puck dude's place.

So here he was, Carole sitting at his left and Burt, the one man bulldozing army, staring at him from across the dining room table, hands intertwined and glare beady.

"So, I've heard from Kurt. That is of course when he finally decided to tell me the truth on his end. How he met you. How you guys have been staying in contact and everything else he happens to know about you. But I haven't heard it from you. Not directly. So start spilling."

"What do you want to know?"

"Well let's start with how you started - you know - doin' what you're doin'".

"Prostituting."

"Yeah - that."

God. This was the moment wasn't it? The crossroads...

"I've been with - um -"

He could hear Simon screaming at him until the veins in his forhead were pulsing, the diligent fists raining down on him to get him to shut the hell up. But this was how it was going to change. Admitting it all and finding a new path...

"My older brother's name is Simon. He raised me. I've been hooking since I was a kid, like thirteen or whatever."

"Wait - and your brother - he knew about this?" Burt questions incredulously.

"Well - yeah. Let's just say he supported it. It was sort of how we got by. Me hooking."

"Honey, do you mean that - you're brother - he had you... _making_ money for him?" Carole added, her tone disbelieving and sad.

Sebastian nods.

"So, he's your pimp?"

"Burt!" Carole admonishes.

"Yeah. It's true Carole. He is. And it's not just me. He has others. Two girls that work for him too. You know when I mentioned having family?"

"They're it," Burt supplies.

"Yeah. They're it," Seb confirms.

"Well I think I might need to have a little chat with your brother -"

"No! No. Sorry, but no. It's not gonna help anything."

Burt eyes him as if he hasn't seen anything like him before. He probably hasn't.

"This guy, who was supposed to be taking care of you, put you up for sale since you were a kid. And you're telling me to stand by and not say anything?"

"I get how it looks -"

"No kid, I don't think you do. He used you since before you even knew any better. No matter how you look at it, you were still just a kid. Hell, you're still a kid. The least he deserves is a jail cell. I just - why didn't you tell anybody?"

"Burt," Carole states in warning.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way. I just find it hard to believe that you could've kept this kind of thing to yourself for so long. That a teacher, or a coach or somebody wouldn't have questioned or suspected something."

Seb grows quiet. The words fumbling around his brain and lingering on the tip of his tongue. It all sounded so much worse out in the open. So much more horrible when shared with normal people.

"I - I never was in school."

"What?" Carole poses quietly.

"I've never been. To school. Or the doctor's. Anything like that. So there was no one to tell, I guess."

Burt sits back, taking his ball cap off his head and running his hand over the bald skin of his head.

"Damn. This just keeps getting better," Burt blurts out sarcastically. Carole ignores the exclamation and continues.

"Sebastian. What about the other girls? Are they adults or -" she inquires tentatively. Her nurse's etiquette likely coming into play. Her soft tone making him think that this is probably how she spoke to a patient who just found out that they were terminally ill.

He shakes his head in answer.

"Um - they're about my age. Well, Santana is. Brittany... We think she's probably a little younger. Not like we had any records or anyway to know for sure. But no more than a year difference."

She nods in grim understanding, ducking her head as if unable to reach his eyes in the moment. The information too much for an unassuming mother who's only real problems regarding dealing with a teenager was having to remind him to fold his clothes properly or to abide by his curfew when he goes out late night bowling. Nothing anywhere near this.

He was already feeling like a burden. They didn't need to know the rest.

The occupants of the table fall into silence. Burt is wringing his hands together, chewing his lip like he always seems to do when he's working things out. Carole is watching Burt, waiting to catch his eye undoubtedly in hopes of finding an answer there.

Finally Burt breaks the void.

"Okay. You're staying here until we can figure this all out. Your friends?"

"Santana and Brittany. My family."

"Right. We're going to get them and have them stay here too. At least for a little while. I'll be damned if we leave two teenaged girls to fend for themselves with some asshole. No offense, kid."

"None taken. I've thought a lot worse. Trust me."

"Right. Well I'd say a lot more but I think I'm seeing too much red for my brain to think up anything more creative at the moment. So you're gonna contact them and fill them in. And then you and I are gonna pick them up."

"Burt, I c-can't ask this of you. This is too much. We can stay in a motel or something -"

"Kid, it's already done. All we have to do is go through the motions."

Sebastian can't think of anything else to say. So he does the one thing that makes sense to him. He stands up, walks over to Burt and holds his hand out.

Burt gives him a once over, then stands up to grip his hand firmly.

"Think you got some phone calls to make."

"Phone _calls_?" Seb puts emphasis on the last word.

"Yeah. Calls. You're calling Kurt first. Telling him to bring his tail home."

"Um - yeah. Definitely."

* * *

He's called three times. He's texted four. Kurt wasn't responding. When he told Carole, she chalked it up to him shutting his phone off during his outing with Mercedes.

"Sometimes he gets so caught up in his spree, he'll shut his phone off or put it on vibrate to keep absolute focus. It was something I had to get used to myself. Burt says he's been doing it since he was fifteen," she explained calmly.

Sebastian left it at that and proceeded to call Santana.

He was surprised to not hear the excuses or be privy to the reasons why they shouldn't. Sure she had been the one a while ago to suggest something better for them, to actually aspire for change. But the opportunity to actually make good on it, he thought that she would try to finagle her way out of it... find some last way to affirm their inability to be anything different.

"When?"

Was all she had said. He felt his smile automatically extend.

"As soon as I work it out with Burt. But soon. Real soon. Are you at home?"

"No. Brit's waiting over at that dive cafe - Mama's Joint, or Papa's Place or whatever the hell that shit hole off Briar's called. I just finished with a customer. Got one more to go."

Sebastian doesn't say anything. They hear each other even without the words.

"But, I can cancel. You know - if you guys are coming."

"Yeah. That works. Just stay there. We'll come scoop you up from there. Wait for my call."

"Good. Later, Sebastard."

When they hang up, all is feeling right in the world. This was really going to happen.

The euphoria that had been mounting was instantaneously destroyed just as quickly as it had come the moment he'd checked an incoming text, thinking that Kurt had finally gotten back to him. The text had been from Kurt's phone after all.

His smile disappears when he reads it over carefully.

_**Your Princess is with me. Come alone. If you don't I'll do more than make him my bitch.**_ **_See you soon little brother. _**

For a moment, he can't breathe. He can't think. There's nothing but static in the air, like the snowy chaos of an old television screen clouding his mind.

He has to get there. Now. And he can't tell Burt. That just wasn't going to end well for anybody. Fuck.

Sebastian feels himself moving before his mind catches up. He approaches Burt who was sitting on the couch, doing everything in his power to appear absolutely aloof. He hates that he has to lie so soon after he'd said that he wouldn't. But this was... just different. There was no choice.

"Hey, um - Burt. I have to head out. There's a guy who owes me a few bucks."

"A customer?"

"Yeah. Kind of."

Burt's eyes narrow.

"Yeah. A customer. I gotta meet him while I can. Since it's the last time and all."

"What about the girls?"

"I was gonna ask you if you'd mind picking them up and meeting us back here."

Burt's glare remains the same. Kurt really does looks like him when he scowls.

"I'm sorry. It's something I gotta do," Seb declares.

Burt buffets a long puff of air, then slowly rises to his feet while grabbing his keys from the coffee table.

"Tell me where to get 'em. I'll meet you after. But I better not find out that there's any sort of drug related happenings involved in this meeting. I already told you that I don't want any of that sort of stuff around here and I won't hesitate to throw you out if that's the case -"

"No. I -"

He hesitates. That same expression that Simon scoffed at, the audacity of swearing to something coming to his mind.

"I swear, Burt. This isn't drug related in anyway. I wouldn't do that to Kurt or your family."

Burt exhales and then nods. "A'right. Give me the address where I can get 'em."

* * *

"You still didn't tell me what the hell it is we're doing. Or what this has to do with Kurt."

He's anxiously drumming his fingers against the side of the passenger side door. His window rolled down in order for him to quell the sick feeling grating his stomach.

"Look - Cubby, just know that you were my last resort. I fucking hate with every piece of my soul that I had to call you of all people for this. But all you need to know is that I'm obviously desparate and I need you to drive like life itself depends on your ability to get there as fast as humanly possible. Okay?"

Dave Karofsky shifts in his seat, repositioning his hand on the steering wheel. Thankfully he seems to get the point though, and huffs himself into an annoyed silence.

For whatever reason, he had kept Cubby's number in his phone from their long ago excursion when they'd first met at Scandals. Maybe thinking that he would continue to be a reputable customer of his.

That obviously hadn't turned out to be the case. But he was currently beyond grateful that he had decided to keep it. Or had simply forgotten it was there long enough not to erase it on a whim.

Truthfully, he needed some sort of back up. Not to get physical or anything persay. But at least in order to note his absence and contact the authorities if he had failed to return. He wouldn't dare tell Burt. The guy would've gone ballistic and came in guns blazing at the knowledge of his son being at Simon's mercy. And Mercedes was also too ill tempered and would likely insist that they gather the entire police department of Lima to bust open his brother's door. Even getting in contact with the very good-natured, but very stupidly naive Finn wasn't even a debatable option. All of the above choices just felt too risky.

So, he'd swallowed down the portion of his ego that was throwing screaming protests within his conscience and dialed Cubby.

Surprisingly, Karofsky had answered. Even more insane, Karofsky had opted to actually come pick him up and take him on this random mission of retrieval when Seb had managed to voice the request. Doing so on the sole knowledge that whatever the circumstance, it somehow involved Kurt and was potentially of a serious consequence.

When they made it into the neighborhood housing his apartment building, he asked the jock to pull over around the corner from the actual location.

"So... what the fuck are we doing?"

"I'm going to get Kurt. You're staying here."

"Fuck, no. I'm going with you -"

"No. I need you to stay here, Cubby."

"You can't expect me to just sit here. You didn't even tell me what the fuck is going on except that Kurt could be in trouble or something and I gave your ass a ride here. I'm going in there -"

"Dave. Look, I know you think I'm shit. I get it. But right now, this isn't about who's better for Kurt or whatever. We both know that it's you by a long shot despite all your bullying bull shit. This is about both of us helping him out. Okay? I need to go in there alone for him to get out safely."

Dave still looks mutinous. Ready to bolt past Sebastian and run screaming through the streets for Kurt, but instead, he exhales stiffly.

"You're not back in fifteen, I'm coming after you."

"Deal. It's the beige apartment building. Brown trim on the outside. Address is sixty-two, fourty-four. Apartment number seven. But don't come in there. Call somebody. Get help."

Karofsky nods, curling back into the seat, hand still attached to the steering wheel. Sebastian then gives him a subtle nod, and then shuts the door as he hastily exits the old pick up truck.

All of this playing it cool shit disappears as soon as his feet touch the cement, running hard toward the apartment and practically exploding through the main door. He almost teleports up the stairs he's climbing them so fast.

When he reaches the apartment door, a number seven dangling at an odd angle, he forgoes knocking and immediately tries the knob. To his growing sense of unease, he finds it unlocked.

Sebastian takes in the sight of the living room. Some of the girls things are sprawled about and sit untouched in the corner. His jade orbs then drift over the two glasses sitting empty on the worn coffee table.

His hand is in his jacket pocket, ghosting the handle of his switch blade as he takes several cautious steps forward.

"Back here little brother," Simon calls out from the bedroom.

Sebastian braces himself, and then strides the final steps toward the room, pushing the already cracked door the rest of the way open.

The rage he feels is indescribable. Rage, followed by an all consuming guilt.

"Untie him. Now."

"Ooh. You almost sound scary when you say it like that. Can't really do that though," and Simon makes his point by plucking up Princess' hand, the metal of the handcuffs gleaming as if directly mocking him.

Both of Kurt's wrists were chained to separate bed posts. Seb knows those same pairs very well. He's bare chested, his soft skin left exposed to Simon's roaming fingers. Sebastian notes with a surge of relief that he doesn't seem to have any injuries, at least that he can see, and is still wearing his pants.

When he looks at Kurt's face, the semi-closed eyes blank, his brunette head lolling to the side as if lifeless, he immediately recognizes that look.

"You drugged him."

"I may have given him a bit of a cocktail. Ah-ah, brother," Simon warns when Sebastian makes a move to pull his blade out of his pocket. Simon holds up his own knife, a buck knife meant for skinning animals clutched in his own hand. Simon runs the blade, flat side down, over the pale skin of Kurt's stomach.

"I wouldn't do that. Not unless you want to bathe in Princess' royal blood."

Sebastian stands down, taking his hand from his pocket and holding both of them out for Simon to see.

"Alright. I'm here now. What do you want Simon? What the fuck are you trying to do?"

Simon smirks up from his position on the bed where he's lying near Kurt, absent mindedly brushing the knife over the milky flesh as if the knife could evoke an intimate caress as sensual as a kiss, tapping the metal against the warm skin every few beats.

"Isn't it obvious brother. I want you back. And this seemed to be the only way to get your attention."

"That's not true. You already have me -"

"No, no, no. I don't Seb. I knew it whenever we spoke about your Princess. The way your eyes would light up like a fucking casino in Vegas. A light you'd try to hide from me. But I saw it. I did. I feel it right now. I feel it coming off of you in waves. Every bit of fucking absolute blood boiling anger you have toward me. The moment when your hand was in your pocket ready to pull your knife. I feel it. And I think it's safe to say that you really care about this fucking little fag. So much in fact, that you would have the fucking balls to pull a knife - to try to actually cut your own brother. Your own flesh and blood fucking brother, over_ him_. Now tell me I'm lying."

Sebastian could easily say the words. Whatever it took to appease Simon. But he knew right away that whatever he chose to say, Simon would see right through it. So he decided against what felt natural.

"You're not. Everything you said is true."

For a brief moment, Simon's face falls and his grip on the knife seems to slacken. It's only for a second though. Because just as soon as the mask of indifference falters, it returns with a vengeance. Simon laughing coldly.

"Wow. That's just - wow. Special. Now isn't it?"

Sebastian feels his skin crawl. He's anxious, and scared, and furious, and doesn't know what exactly, but that he has do to something while Kurt's still breathing.

"Almost as special as what I did to him as soon as I knocked him out."

Sebastian's getting tense. His hands coming down to his sides of their own accord. He feels close to bursting. Every word... every one feeling like the sting of a knife slit.

"He practically came running, you know. When I called him. Soon as I said that it concerned you. Boy came running. We talked for a bit. Talked about you of course. Can you believe that son of a bitch actually had the nerve to tell me, that he wanted to take care of you? That he wanted to be whatever he could be for you. Like he was just trying to take over what we have. Wipe me out of the picture completely. Like he was doing me some fucking favor or some shit. Well, you know me baby brother. I don't do well with sharing."

Simon's smirk is fierce. As fierce as his renewed grip on the knife.

"I didn't get to sample his ass quite yet. But I figured I could save him for you. Since you haven't popped his cherry yet. But I got to tell you, that boy's mouth. Damn. It's something from a dream. Perfect fit around my cock. Only got to fuck that pretty little mouth for a bit before I was cumming down his throat."

Sebastian felt a pause constricting him. Keeping him from moving but simultaneously pushing him to explode... to do something. But here he was, that same scared little kid who would do anything for his brother, fighting tooth and nail against the man who would do anything for Kurt.

"Simon. Please. Don't hurt him."

"How can I not? I have a feeling this kid needs to be broken. Taken down a peg -"

"I'll do whatever you want. Anything. I'll stay. I'll stay with you. Forever. Just - let him go." When Sebastian takes a tentative step forward, Simon hisses in warning, bringing the knife against Kurt's neck.

"No sudden movements brother. Don't want me to have an accident."

"No. I don't want that. But, I also don't want you to be upset either. I need to get closer. I need to be closer to you," Sebastian relates with a suggestive tone.

Simon's pupils dilate, darkening with a familiar lust.

"Really?"

Seb just nods, keeping his eyes trained on his brother.

"Will you let me?"

"Yeah I will. But only if you suck my cock."

"I was planning to -"

"And then his," Simon says smoothly, tapping the knife against Kurt's chest. Sebastian hesitates for a moment, but then nods.

"Yeah. I'll - I'll suck you both off."

Simon sits up, easing the knife away from Kurt's neck and keeping it trained at his side. He looks massive, which is odd because he wasn't a juice head or buff beyond normal means - just fit and muscled enough to warrant approval. He always had a way of seeming bigger than what he was. His charisma perhaps. His torso is also free of a shirt, his toned arms marked by endless tattoo sleeves. He pats his dick through his pants playfully.

"Come and get it."

Sebastian meanders toward him, kneeling down on the side of the bed between Simon's jean-clad thighs. He looks up at his brother, licking his lips and then running his hands over the muscled chest. Eventually he cups the back of his neck.

When he sees that Simon isn't protesting, he smiles and brings him down to press a kiss to his lips, his other hand gliding up Simon's forearm and gently slipping the knife out of his hand, dropping it somewhere on the floor.

Simon growls into the kiss, Seb willing himself to give in despite the feeling of vomit churning and readying itself to escape. Simon suddenly pushes him away, grabbing his hair forcefully and manuevering his face against his hardening but still clothed cock.

"Hurry up."

Seb nods as much as he can manage, and begins to unzip his brother's jeans. When he pushes the fabric of his boxers aside and pulls out the hard member, Simon is slipping into a state of unadulterated bliss, letting his head fall back.

Just as he was about to kiss the tip, Sebastian slams his fist down as hard as he can against the bulging rod, causing Simon to double over in pain making it easy for Seb to push him from the bed. He then scrambles over the bed, leaning over Kurt in order to yank open the side table drawer.

"F-fuck! I'm gonna - Ah, god damn it! I'm gonna fucking kill you!"

He's frantically clawing through the drawer contents, shaking open the bible settled in the small space and throwing out random receipts and papers trying to locate the handcuff key. He kicks at Simon when he feels him grab at his ankle, using it as leverage to pull himself up while sputtering and coughing.

Before he can do anything more, Simon has pulled him off the bed, tackling him to the floor. Sebastian is trying to reach into his pocket to pull out his blade but is too busy using his hands to hold him off or try punch his way free.

His head smacks into the dresser and a quick fist to his side slows him down enough to forget about his knife.

"You lookin' for the fuckin' key you little shit," a fist to his face causes him to grunt in pain. "You think I'd make it that easy for you?" Another closed fisted blow graces his cheek. "I have it on me. Right near the cock that's gonna be drilling your fuckin' boyfriend until he's wishing he was dead."

Of course the bastard had it on him. It was in his back pocket.

"Fuck! You!" Sebastian roars, rolling over and landing a few consecutive hits, several wild body shots and quick hook slamming into his brother's nose.

"Ah! Fuck," Simon hisses as his head cocks back from the force of the punch. They're tussling like a pair of animals thrashing about blindly but with every intention to cause harm; Sebastian fighting with everything he could muster. Everything that he'd never dare to demonstrate against his brother. No matter how badly he had wished it. No matter how numerous the occasion.

And then there's a loud 'thump' echoing throughout the space, Simon falling forward in an unconscious heap.

Seb looks up, and can't help the relief that floods through him at the sight of the person standing above him, the thick bible held tightly in both of his hands, his eyes wide and his chest rising with heavy breaths.

"Get the key. It's in his back pocket."

Dave drops the bible as if still in shock at what he'd just done.

"Dave!"

Karofsky shakes his head, forcing himself to come to his senses. "Y-yeah. Back pocket. Got it."

He quickly fishes in Simon's back pocket and locates the key.

"Got it."

"Good. Unhook Kurt. Then we'll take him down."

Dave nods, immediately using the tiny key to unclasp each set of handcuffs keeping Kurt's wrists bound.

"He looks bad, man."

Sebastian flexes his jaw, using the nearby bed post to pull himself to his feet before responding.

"He roofied him. It'll wear off in a few hours."

"His breathing though... he looks like he's barely breathing."

Sebastian takes a look at Kurt, trying desparately to be objective and avoid emotion. If he gets emotional, he'll be no good to Kurt. If he gets emotional... all of this becomes his fault.

He hears Simon groaning from the floor, hears his own heart in his throat, hears Dave's damn near panicked breathing...

"Okay. Let's take him to the hospital."

"You're sure? They won't - But, won't they think he was like - raped or something? Won't they call his dad?"

"We're taking him. And that might be the case. It's better to know for sure. C'mon," and he moves forward and pulls Kurt's inanimate body up, dragging the limp arm over his shoulder.

Dave is stuck in a brief lapse of disbelief. Seb was sure the reality that Kurt could've been hurt in that way is maybe too much to take in. But then Dave is doing the same thing on the other side, pulling the other arm over his own shoulder, and they begin to trek toward the door.

But something stops Seb.

"What are you -"

"Can you take him?"

Dave is looking for the words, his mouth gaping open and then closing.

"Can you?" Seb tries again.

Dave nods and gingerly pulls Kurt body over his broad shoulder, keeping a firm grip on his legs to steady him.

"I'll be down in a sec."

Karofsky's eyes narrow, the cogs working in his mind as he contemplates leaving Sebastian alone. Then he grunts, "yeah. Hurry up," and disappears with Kurt in tow.

Sebastian looks down at the body of his brother. Like this - right now - he doesn't seem so massive - larger than life... or intimidating. He looks... broken... useless... pathetic. He looks exactly like he had made Sebastian feel all of his life.

This impressive figure was nothing but a marked up, crazed piece of forgotten shit. That's what he looked like. And that's why it was easy to pick up the buck knife from the floor.

He feels himself drawing closer, feels his knees hit the floor as he kneels down, knife held out and ready to plunge down into that fucking chest that housed that fucking withered heart.

He raises it...

And now he's willing himself to just do it. Just end it already. Make them all safe.

The knife drops from his hand, landing noiselessly on the carpeted floor. The tears springing to his eyes, full of anger at himself for being too weak. He leans over then, whispering into Simon's ear...

"I could've done it. But you're still my brother. Goodbye, Simon."

And he leaves it all behind. Even his favorite book.

* * *

**A/N:** Great googly moogly that was a long one. Probably the longest chap I've ever done in a fic. I didn't have it in me to break it up I suppose. I wanted it to flow and swiftly travel through the angst to the action. I worked hard. That's all I can say. I hope it was worthy of the wait. I don't think any other chaps I do will be this long but you never know. Depends on how I'm feeling. Please lend me your thoughts via review. Thank you guys as always!


	17. Chapter 17

Sebastian had been sitting with his head in his hands, his mind racing. Flashing imagery blinding him as he tried to make sense of everything; re-running the last few hours over and over again like a nostalgic film stuck on repeat.

The emotions he had tried so hard to keep at bay, were now coursing through him unhindered and expanding, filling him up like smoke that seemed to spell out the words _'your fault' _in large bright letters reminiscent of that gaudy, obnoxious Scandal's sign.

Dave was leaning against a nearby vending machine, a tired expression tracing his features as he recounted his change for the tenth time and bit his lower lip in concentration over the snack he probably would never actually purchase; just giving himself something to do while anxiously waiting.

There were only a few others scattered about the sterile looking waiting room. A harrassed middled aged woman with her sleeping child leaning against her shoulder, and an antique looking old man squinting over a magazine with a deep frown.

He thinks of how if Kurt would never have met him, this never would have happened... none of it. Kurt being put in an awkward position with his parents, him pushing other friends and opportunities away to spend time with some fucking unworthy scum like Sebastian, him being violated and robbed of his sexual purity...

He thinks of how he really would've felt if he had talked himself into sticking that buck knife through Simon's heart... of how maybe Kurt would've found his way to Dave Karofsky after all if Seb had just never existed...

He looks over at Dave who's no longer leaning on the machine, his posture perking as he suddenly appears alert. Seb turns to note what has the stocky teenager rife with alarm at the other end of the hall. He too stands up as Carole makes her way toward them purposefully.

"How is he?" Seb blurts out as she comes to a halt in front of the pair.

"Well..." she then releases an enduring sigh, efficiently slipping into her nurse persona before proceeding.

''He's pretty tired. A bit out of sorts. But doing pretty well considering. There wasn't any lacerations or lasting damage externally. Just some light bruising where the, um - handcuffs were."

Sebastian didn't need to say it. Carole was simply taking a pause before confirming the rest. The portion that Seb was most terrified to know.

"They performed a rape kit. Swabbed inside and around his mouth as well based on what you reported. The tests didn't come up with anything."

"So that means that nothing happened to him, right?" Dave questioned before Seb could formulate anything that sounded anywhere near comprehensible.

"Not necessarily. It could mean several things: there was no evidence left behind because a condom was used. Also if the -"

Carole verbally stumbles here, steeling herself to remain stoic and professional despite her obvious upset at her own step son being the victim of something she probably dealt with hundreds of times before, but never imagined in a million years could've infiltrated her own family.

"If the... um, r-rape... involved oral or anal sex, the test could fail to pick anything up as well because salivary and bacterial enzymes can rapidly destroy sperm. But the other explanation - the one I'm desparately hoping for - could in fact be that maybe nothing happened. I mean, there wasn't any sign of assault or rectal trauma. No foreign hairs or fibers found. His mouth and throat didn't appear swollen or inflamed -"

"Well I know Simon. He wouldn't have went through that trouble just to do nothing," Sebastian states coolly.

Carole huffs, her brown eyes filling with a trepidation that she couldn't hide behind her feigned composure.

"David. Would you mind excusing us for a moment?"

"Uh - yeah. Sure. I should give my dad a call. I'll just head outside."

"Thank you."

Dave nods and retreats down the hall, disappearing around the corner. She watches until he's gone, then turns back toward Sebastian.

"Kurt won't talk about what happened. I - I know he can't remember because of the rohpynol we found in his system. But he won't talk about the circumstances beforehand. How he got there, why he went there, if anything happened before he was drugged... nothing. The only reason we know anything about who it could be was because of what you stated -"

"It was Simon. There's no question -"

"I know that sweetheart. I do. I believe you. But if he won't talk about it or confirm anything there won't be much to go on... except your word, and I - I just..."

It hits Sebastian with a sudden impact - what she wasn't saying aloud.

"My word wouldn't be good enough because I'm some street slut. I get it."

She grows quiet.

"You're not some street slut or any of that. Okay?"

"Well forgive me Carole, but I beg to differ. I'm associated with people who can do shit like this to someone like - like Kurt. That's exactly what I am -"

"What I meant, was that what you say might not be credible because of your history with your brother. Him being your - your pimp and... everything else he's done."

She eyes him carefully. Her brown eyes feeling like they were x-raying him, sort of like when Santana would watch him in the same way; deducing something just by looking at him.

"What do you mean?" he whispers.

"You never said it. But there was more. Wasn't there? Between you and your brother?"

Sebastian looks away, panic flaring inside of him. How did she - how could she know? He tries to find the words to deny it, but all that happens is his eyes growing wet, and their refusal to meet her gaze for fear of seeing that sense of knowledge and pity he was so sure would be there staring back at him.

Carole rests her hand on his shoulder kindly, grounding him really.

"You don't have to tell me now. But I've been doing this job for a long time. I know what a victim looks like. No matter how hard or uncaring they pretend to be. I felt it in you, the night I first met you. And that feeling hasn't gone away since."

The tears leave his eyes but he wipes them away angrily, still stagnant in his frustration and disbelief.

"Based on what's gone on, they might think that you're just trying making it up to get back at him. It'll be harder to prove that there wasn't any ill intent or to disprove any convulution of the story. Not without Kurt's account."

Her other hand comes up to rest against his cheek, slowly tilting his face upward so that he was meeting her eyes.

"None of this was your fault. You didn't do this. No matter what anyone says... even you. Do you understand me?"

He turns his head away as the shame envelopes him, but she won't let him escape, forcing him to look in her eyes.

"Do you understand me sweetheart? None of it."

He nods, probably just to give himself a moment of reprieve; to give Carole a moment of peace. She seems satisfied with this response as she releases her hold on him.

"Burt called me. Said that the police already checked out the apartment. They didn't find much. Mostly everything was destroyed or gone. There was no sign of your brother."

"Y-you won't find him. He's probably gone. For good," Seb relays solemnly, his voice hoarse from holding in so much rough emotion.

It was true. Simon was probably long gone. Good riddance was his first thought.

The second, more disgusting, self depracating thought, was a sadness and a slight gnawing fear at being left alone for the first time. He hated himself for thinking it. But Simon had been his world for his entire life. He didn't know anything else. And he was honestly scared of facing the unknown without that constant presence...

"Burt's on his way here."

"What about the girls?"

"He - um - he dropped them off at a hotel. At least for the time being."

Sebastian exhales slowly, trying to regain some sort of calm, wiping at his traitorous eyes that were still leaking. He could see where this was going. Even if Carole was in denial. He knew what getting dumped out to fend for yourself like yesterday's trash looked like. Sad thing is, he couldn't blame the guy. How could he now after what happened? What Sebastian inadvertantly caused?

"Can I see him? Before Burt gets here?"

She provides him with a wry smile.

"Of course you can." And she adds as an after-thought. "I'll try to talk to him."

Sebastian nods, knowing full well that she meant Burt, but wishing that she didn't.

"Thanks."

He doesn't waste any more time as he stalks toward the opposite end of the hall and makes his way to the room.

When he eases the door open, he can't seem to do more than stand in the doorway as he stares over at the lithe body dressed in a hospital gown, propped up in the narrow hospital bed.

Kurt is looking toward the window, Sebastian unable to see his expression. He somehow seems even more pale, a translucent, almost garish tint to his skin that makes the IV drip connected to his arm stand out like a beacon.

His chest is rising slowly up and down. Sebastian wasn't sure if he was sleeping.

"Um - hey."

The brunette head barely shifts, blue eyes meeting jade with a deadpan expression that nearly makes Sebastian roll up into a ball and cry until he can't.

"Hey," Kurt answers hoarsely, the tone emotionless.

"Can I - can I come in?"

Princess gives a subtle nod. Sebastian sighs and then gently closes the door, ambling into the room and standing hesitantly near the bed.

It was the first time since he had known Kurt that neither could find something to say.

"I... Kurt, I -"

"Don't. Just don't. Okay?"

He lets the words die on his lips, nodding to confirm his follow through with the request.

What Kurt eventually says next makes him want to sink in on himself... or go back in time and push that fucking knife through Simon's chest without hesitation.

"I was stupid. I should never have went. It was my fault. You told me to stay away from him. And I didn't listen."

But instead, Seb rounds the bed and kneels in front of him, blocking the sight line of the window.

"What the hell are you talking about? This isn't your fault Kurt. It's not your fault that my brother is a fucking sadistic son of a bitch. How could you think that?"

"I - I can't remember what he did."

Sebastian ducks his head.

"Maybe that's better," he voices quietly.

"Is it? I woke up to people poking at me. And swabbing every fucking oriface of my body after telling me that I probably was ra-"

Kurt can't seem to say the word. Several tears slide down his porcelain cheek.

"I've never felt so... dirty. Not like when I was thrown in dumpsters or slushied. Like I'm contaminated... ruined."

Sebastian can't take this. He reaches out and takes Kurt's hand from his kneeling position, causing the other boy's gaze to settle evenly on him.

"What I wouldn't give to take this back. To keep you safe. To keep you from that feeling. Because you're still beautiful. To me, you always will be. Whatever he did, it could never take that away. I know what it's like... that feeling... I've felt it hundreds of times. But the worst ones... they were always him."

"Wha - what do you mean?"

A sad grin slowly overtakes his mouth.

"Carole - she said - she said she knew. That she could see it on me," He chuckles bitterly. "I don't know how somebody can figure something like that out. Tell that someone's spent their days being their brother's personal fuck toy. But hey, you learn something new everyday, right?"

Kurt doesn't say anything. But his tears fall more swiftly, his hand applying increased pressure to Sebastian's.

"I - I don't know if I can ever come back from what he's done to me. I just - I don't know. But Iike I said before. I can't help but be grateful that you don't remember. You don't know how many nights that I've prayed I'd just forget. It never works."

Kurt is squeezing his hand firmly now, a slight pull causing Sebastian to rise to his feet; an invitation for him to lie next to Kurt, which he does. Their hands twined between their bodies, both boys staring up at the ceiling. Kurt's monotone voice interrupts their silent musings.

"He called me. Just after I had dropped Mercedes off. I didn't even get a chance to check my messages before I answered. He was - upset, or acting like it anyway. He talked about you, and how he n-needed my help. He wanted to talk to me about you. But in person. He needed me to understand. I - then I stupidly went. I had to park around the corner. The parking was non-existant because of the street cleaning."

That explained why they hadn't spotted Kurt's car anywhere in front. Kurt continues after a brief pause, probably to collect himself.

"When he answered, he seemed so... vulnerable. Like he was honestly sad. He offered me a drink, water or juice or something. I remember taking a few sips and then my head felt weird. I just wanted to lie down. I could hear his voice, see his smile. He laughed - he was laughing while unbuttoning my shirt. I couldn't fight it. I just - I couldn't do anything."

Sebastian tightens his grip on Kurt's hand, looking over at him in hopes of giving him some sort of support. Kurt kept staring upward, the words tumbling forth and echoing loudly in the small space despite them being uttered in a quiet tone.

"I think - there are flashes - quick pictures that I can't quite make out. But they're there. The feeling of his hands. Blurred moments of his lips... Him touching me with his... p-putting it against my mouth..."

"You don't have to -"

"No. I do. But I can't. I blacked out then. All of the rest of it... It's all gone."

Kurt bursts into sobs then, rolling over and clinging to Sebastian. Seb holds him tightly, his own eyes burning furiously as they tangle around each other.

"Shhh... It's okay, babe. Shhh... no one's ever going to touch you that way again. Ever. I'll keep you safe. I'll always keep you safe. I'm sorry... I'm so, so, sorry."

And it wasn't just about what Kurt had gone through. It was an apology for everything... for bringing him into his world. For allowing him to be exposed to this life in any facet or form... for ever having met him at all...

The door swings open and Burt Hummel is now there, staring at the two with a glacial disposition; grim-faced and cool.

"Get up. And get off him. Now."

Sebastian swallows audibly, and then eases out of the bed and away from Kurt, who's still trying to quell the withering sobs.

"What we talked about before. I - I just don't think it's gonna work out," Burt blusters.

"I - I understand, sir."

"I know it's not your fault kid. I get it. But I just - I don't think I can look at you without - without feeling differently, you know. And I'm sorry."

"D-dad -"

"No, Kurt. I should've done more to keep him away from you. I knew that this wasn't a good idea -"

"Dad, Sebastian didn't do anything. It's not his fault -"

"I get that. I really do. But after what happened to you Kurt. I don't care if God himself told me that I had to let him be in your life. You're my son. I can't lose you. And this came awfully close."

Burt addresses Sebastian then. "We can still help you. We will. Um - with money - trying to help you get you on your feet. Whatever we can do. But I can't have you staying in my house. I can't."

Sebastian feels that empty feeling sweeping over him. Every word prompting its growth.

"Mr. Hummel?"

"Yeah?"

"I wanted to tell you. Man to man. That I - I love your son. I love you, Kurt -" He says while staring directly at the pale teen watching with wide blue eyes. He turns back toward Burt.

"I'd do anything for him. Even if it means leaving him alone. But I will only do that if that's what _he_ wants. And _only_ then, will I do it."

Sebastian tries to smile at Kurt, but is sure that it comes across looking like a strained grimace.

"I'm gonna go check in with the girls. Thank you by the way. For picking them up. I really appreciate it. And don't worry about money. I don't want it. Kurt can call me whenever he feels ready to."

And with that, Sebastian leaves the stifling hospital room. He stalks down the hallway, not even stopping when Dave jumps up from one of the waiting area chairs and calls after him.

"Hey - Yo! Hey! Sebastian!"

He doesn't stop. He doesn't think he can.

"Hey! Dude, what the hell? Where are you going?"

"Leaving."

"Wha - why?"

They're passing the main lobby area and stepping through the main entrance, the glass doors sliding open to accomodate their hasty exit.

"Why do you think Cubs? That was my brother. _My_ brother who did that shit to Kurt. Did you really think they were gonna want to invite me for dinner afterward? Keep me around as some happy little house guest? It ain't happening."

"So you're just gonna take off?"

"Yeah. Until Kurt needs me. Whenever he calls. _If_ ever. What else can I do?"

"I don't know - stay? Refuse to leave - take your pick."

Sebastian stops then, just as they're entering the parking lot, shaking his head at the naivity afforded this stupid kid who didn't know anything about what it felt like to be expectedly rejected.

"Grow the fuck up Karofsky," he growls, then continues storming away, not at all sure of the destination.

"You know what? You really aren't good enough for him. Not if you won't fight for him. I don't know if you've noticed, but now might just be the time he needs you most you fucking idiot!"

Sebastian halts again, Dave's shouted words playing on repeat in his mind. He doesn't say anything, doesn't even bother to turn around to face him. But he can't move. He's stuck there, an iota - the tiniest speck of pure, desparate hope daring to swell, keeping him frozen.

"Whether he said it or not. Kurt needs you here. Mr. Hummel's just scared. I know... well, sort of. My dad was the same way when I came out to him a few weeks ago."

"Y-you came out?"

"Yeah. He was the first one I told. Well, from my family. Kurt was the first person who knew obviously. My dad though - he looked like he wanted to hug me and strangle me at the same time. He didn't talk to me for days. Just ignored me. Eventually when he was ready, we talked. And he admitted that he just didn't know what to say. Because he was scared shitless. Scared for me, scared and disappointed in himself for raising a gay son... he didn't say that, but I could see it in his face. But now that he knows,_ I'm _not scared anymore. And I think with time, he'll learn to be brave about it too. I mean he's already starting to ask me more questions about it. And I guess that's a start."

Sebastian turns around.

"You're comparing what happened to Kurt, and his dad's reaction to me, to you coming out to your dad?"

"Yeah. I think I am."

"You _are_ a dumb jock."

"Maybe. But I'm smart enough to know that what you're doing is a mistake."

Sebastian feels himself seething with so many emotions, it actually physically aches.

"I don't get this. You _hate_ me. You don't want me anywhere near Kurt. Probably even more than his dad. Why are you doing this?"

Dave has caught up to him now, staring at him with his hands shoved in his pockets.

"Because... I owe Kurt. He saved me. He doesn't know that. But he did. And at the end of the day, he's still my friend so... I figured this was the right thing to do."

Sebastian thinks back to what Kurt had said the night before, when Burt had confronted them on the front porch...

_"You just have to trust me. Trust that you raised me right. So much so, that I've learned to do the right thing. Even when it's the hard thing. And what's right, is for me to be there for Sebastian - for us to be there for each other..._

"Are you saying that I'm chicken shit for leaving?"

"Yeah. I am. A chicken shit, yellow bellied, cream filled twinky with no back bone."

Sebastian eyes Dave carefully, then can't seem to find the will power to contain the smirk that somehow spreads over his lips... somehow just feels right after all of the bull shit and crap-filled hardship as of late.

"That sounded like a terrible one liner from like - a gay version of Back to the Future."

Dave grins back. "Just call me Marty."

Sebastian bursts out laughing, Dave following suit as they let themselves enjoy the moment. Eventually the laughter subsides.

"Alright, McFly. Hover board us back to the hospital."

"Let's just - walk."

"Novel idea Marty McGay."

As they walk back, Dave bumps his shoulder playfully.

"Your face still looks like crap. Maybe you can get Mrs. H to get you an ice pack."

"I thought you said my eye didn't look swollen?"

"Nah. It's just to cover up your face in shame. Because that joke - was like - horrific and grossly - just - super lame."

"Do you realize that you just rhymed? I'm gonna start calling you Big D. Maybe you missed your calling."

"Just walk, Twink."

"Only if you call me yellow bellied again. For a second I thought I was in Albuquerque having a conversation with Yosemite Sam. It was pleasantly mind boggling."

"Ignoring you."

And he did. But the silence felt welcome and oddly comforting as they walked back, re-entering the building.

They were immeidately met by a slightly out of breath Carole when the glass doors slide open giving them access to the main lobby.

"W-where are you going?" she choked out between gulps of air.

"I was gonna... you know how Burt feels. I just thought -"

"I don't care - about that. You're - not to leave - okay?" She says while finally regaining control of her breathing and standing up straight. "I'm not going to have you run off and disappear. I meant what I said before. We're with you. And we'll figure out the rest as it comes."

"But that's his dad up there. You and I both know that whatever he says is law because Kurt's his kid."

"Whether you leave or not Sebastian. What's done is done. And you walking away from it now won't change that. Burt is just doing what he thinks is best for Kurt. That's all. But you have every right to be here."

She places her hand on his shoulder and looks at him with what one could only describe as a 'mothering' look.

"I want you here. And I know Kurt does too."

Dave bumps his other shoulder, shooting him what was obviously the infamous 'I told you so' expression, a conspiratorial smirk looming over the square face.

Just then, they all look up to see Burt advancing down the hall toward them.

Dave's smirk melts off of his face in record time. Carole releases her grip on Sebastian's shoulder and turns to face the oncoming train of a man barreling toward the trio with a fierce glower.

It was funny. It was like she was almost attempting to block Sebastian from him, as if shielding him. Which was a rather comical impossibility given her short stature.

Burt halts a few feet shy of them, taking his time to regard each one of them before settling his gaze on his wife.

"Carole -"

"Burt, I told you upstairs. He's not leaving."

"Are you on something? Because last I checked, I thought you and I were going to be together on this. That you would stand by my decision for my son -"

"That's just it. He's not just _your_ son. Sure by blood and genetics. But I've always considered him a son of mine too. And for you to suggest otherwise... it makes me sad, and feel like we've been missing the point with each other all along."

Burt's hands are balled into fists at his sides, his narrowed glare set momentarily on Sebastian. Carole steps directly in front of Burt, commanding his attention. She cups his face in her hands, forcing him to look at her.

"What happened to Kurt was not... Sebastian's... fault. He didn't do it. He didn't cause it. And if it wasn't for him finding Kurt, who knows what else would've happened to him. Pushing him away, changes nothing."

Burt's eyes were misting, clouded with suppressed frustration, helplessness.

"I love you, Burt Hummel. But I married you because you're a good man. Prove me right. Be a good man now."

It happens then... Burt Hummel... the Ice King himself, broke down.

It was like watching a mountain be shaken into a pile of broken rock... The sobs wracking his body, his uniformed chest heaving with each choking sound as he clung to Carole like a life line.

Sebastian felt as if he was intruding on something indecent. That this was a purely an intimate moment meant between the two that he'd clumsily stumbled upon and was torn between watching in awe, or running as fast as his feet would carry him.

"I - I couldn't p-protect him," Burt infers roughly, sniffling between words. "I wasn't - I wasn't there - for him. I shouldn't have - sent him -"

"Shh. No, love. You didn't know. Shhh... honey, I know. I know. It's okay. He's alright now. He's safe."

Sebastian is watching with red rimmed eyes. Carole was wrong. He _had _caused this. He had reduced Burt into a shell shocked, insecure father. He could only imagine the unimpeachable sense of devotion and absolute love it took to render this kind of man into a puddle of emotional misery.

Burt had been pushed to the brink, holding in so many feelings of helplessness, loss, fear, and inadequacy all at once. The dude actually had been blaming himself. That just didn't seem right.

It wasn't right.

He feels his hatred for Simon sky rocket. He was the one who should be broken and numb. Not off to God knows where, living without regret and wandering carelessly as if he hadn't left a trail of shambled lives behind him like glass shards, poking and prodding points of blood from innocent flesh.

Burt eventually pulls away from Carole. Sebastian's eyes are darting back and forth between the scene that had unfolded in front of him and taking in the tiled floor, embarrassed to be caught watching.

The elder Hummel walks directly up to him, his faced flushed and taking care to swallow down the lingering upset. As Burt raises his hand, Sebastian automatically closes his eyes, readying himself for the blow that he's sure is coming...

His eyes shoot open when he feels the distinct pat, Burt instead steadily clapping him on the shoulder. Sebastian releases the breath he'd been holding in, blinking rapidly to keep the sting behind his eyes from transforming into moisture.

"You're alright, kid. Thank you. For saving my boy. You too, Karofsky," and he reaches out to take Dave's hand, shaking it firmly.

"Once we get everything squared away here. We'll um - we'll pick up the girls. And go home. Kurt's gonna need his rest. I have a feeling he'll sleep better knowing that you're okay. And that you're with us."

Burt turns to Carole then. "I'm gonna get some air for a bit. I'll be right back."

Carole nods, a watery smile set on her face as she stares after her husband.

"Hey, Burt!" Seb calls after him.

He turns just as the sliding glass doors part, the cold air drifting into the room with a biting chill.

"You're a good father. One I wished I could've had."

Burt's mouth twists into a subtle grin, nodding with what seemed to be appreciation, and then he disappeared into the night.

They all stand there quietly, no words coming to fruition between them. That is until Cubby decided to take the task upon himself.

"For a second, I thought he was gonna punch you out. Then deck me for just desserts. He does kinda owe me one."

Carole bursts out laughing, wiping at her eyes as she nearly doubles over in a fit. Sebastian can't help but break into laughter, succumbing to her infectious sense of mirth after such an intense encounter. Dave chuckles, giving into their non-sensical release.

They laughed until they couldn't. It was crazy. But it weirdly felt right. Maybe it would be - just maybe it could be alright. Maybe in time...

* * *

**A/N:** I just realized that I forgot to put up specific warnings last chap regarding the kidnapping/sexual assault. Sometimes I forget in my haste to just write it and get it posted, post haste. My bad. But I'll admit I probably won't always do it for that reason or to avoid giving too much away. Just remember, I mentioned it all at the beginning. And all of it will happen at some point. Anyway... So... don't be too mad at Burt. He had a moment of doubt and anger, like I think any father would. But Carole helped him come around. Angsty indeed this was, but a needed follow up to what happened with Kurt and to capture folks reactions. I felt that was important to show. As always, lay some reviews on me. And thank you all with a million thanks for the lovely reviews and thoughts thus far!


	18. Chapter 18

Princess had been able to avoid it for several days.

With the help of Carole's knowledgeable plea's relating to Kurt's health and grudging protests from Burt, they had bought Kurt some time to forstall the investigation as a result of his emotionally fragile state and need for rest.

Today was the day that the detectives had refused to be refuted.

So they had been sent away on an impromptu field trip as it were.

Both Carole and Burt had called out from work to be present with Kurt at home. Finn however had been allowed to miss school for the day in order to join Sebastian and the girls on said field trip.

Sebastian was currently slurping up his soda through a straw while watching Finn instruct Brittany in the ways of reloading her bright blue plastic pistol to properly take down the army of soviet soldiers bombarding them like a mass of swarming insects.

Brittany's eyes were bright with excitement as she laughed loudly with nearly every shot. Finn making it look easy and just as normal as playing a game of tic tac toe, or eating around the dinner table.

Santana was sitting with him. Her eyes trained carefully on the blond. This was the first time that they'd been able to attend an arcade without Brittany becoming overwhelmed by the noises and needing to immediately vacate.

"So, what do you think of Frankenteen?"

Sebastian doesn't take his eyes off the pair as he answers.

"He's alright."

"But an idiot."

"But an idiot," Seb confirms. "Oddly charming though."

Santana huffs, "I can see it. The homecoming king, footballing, popular type who's idiocy gets overlooked cause he can throw and grunt in a cute way, right?"

Sebastian gives a short chuckle as way of conceit. "Kurt used to crush on him. Apparently pretty hard."

"Wanky. While they were living together?"

"Some of the time. I think mostly before their parents got married."

They grow quiet, Santana exhaling and Sebastian draining what was left of his depleting soda.

"Are you jealous?"

"What?"

"You heard me El Twinko. Does that make the almighty green eyed monster rage behind those pretty little eye balls of yours?"

"Nah. It sort of just makes me laugh. I think Princess finally realized what he'd be signing up for with that boob."

"And what about the Cubster?"

Sebastian catches her gaze then, both abandoning their observation of the other two teens carrying on with their persistant infiltration of whatever battle zone they were in.

"What about him?"

"He likes Princess, right? That's what he said."

"In so many words."

She pauses. Then states with an almost acidic tone, "worried?"

"About?"

"Stop playing dumb fairy. You know what I mean."

The bantering was familiar to them. It was their way of communicating. But somewhere, underlying the familiarity of it, was something unusual. Something that caused Sebastian to become momentarily bogged down in his inner thoughts before answering.

"Kurt's not an option for me. You know that."

Santana leans back in the booth, her sneer sliding across her face like a silk ribbon.

"You're a fucking idiot. You know that?"

"So I've been told. But fuck you."

"You don't get it. Look around you. Look where we are and what's happening. This is it."

Sebastian quietly slides his empty drink cup away, his glare icy. She continues as if she hadn't noticed his kindling frustration.

"What we talked about? I think this might be it. I mean, look at what Brittany's doing, and you know how she is with loud noises and shit. It took her forever just to be able to watch a movie that had any sort of fighting or screaming in it - which is like, every good movie. Now look. She's never looked happier. And Princess? You're so blind by your own bullshit and guilt that you don't see it -"

"See what exactly? That my brother practically raped him and made him feel even shittier than he already did? That I've fucked more people in the last month than half the people in this state have over their whole fucking lifetime? I can't even look him in the eye let alone... be anything to him. Even trying to salvage a friendship, it just feels like I'm tainting him -"

"Right. So Simon hurt him. Simon did what he always does. Tries to take away anything that could bring us a fucking speck of happiness. Do you really think he would've done what he did if there wasn't a real possibility that he could lose you?"

"Well he's fucking shamelessly dumb to think there was ever a chance. Even If I thought - even for a second otherwise... Reality's a bitch. I'm gonna get a refill."

"Seb - wait."

Her voice is soft, vulnerable. So much so that it causes him to pause, and then sit back down, waiting.

"The last time I saw my sister was the day that bitch of a social worker pryed her away from me in the middle of some fucking office lobby. That was the day I think I'd given up. That nothing and no one mattered anymore. Not even me. Then after years of that feeling, we met Brittany, and I didn't - for the first time, I didn't feel so empty. For the first time, I started to wonder about more. After all is said and done, even after the crazy shit Simon pulled, Kurt still wants you around. Not because he's dependent on you, or because he's trying to use you, or that you're some charity case. Not even because he needs you. Because he_ wants _you around. That's gotta count for something. The fact that we're not out on our ass, means something. And not even Cubs or anyone else can touch that."

He thinks inexplicably of Angelo, probably his favorite John for more reasons than can be conjured off-handedly, and the words that he'd imparted on him the last time that they'd met up...

_"There's always a choice. And your path doesn't have to be dictated by anyone but you... Rule your life in a way that will bring you happiness, kid. Hell, we only get one"..._

"Here, I'll get it," Santana states kindly, picking up his cup before he can grab it. "Coke, right?"

He nods, and she then leaves the booth, promenading toward the snack area with a placid, easy-going grace that seemed less heavy with a contrived switch of her hips meant to signal customer interest. He knew her well enough to know that she was giving him space.

Sebastian watches her for a moment, thinking.

Maybe she was right. Maybe this was that beginning that they'd always been hoping for. They were free of Simon, they had supportive people who were actually willing to deal with them... they could finally do it. _He_, could maybe find his Brittany... hell if he was being sincerely honest with himself, he probably already had...

His phone sounds off, buzzing loudly as the text icon blinks up at him.

**_Jones keeps asking me questions. Don't know what to tell her. I can only keep avoiding her for so long. She's already threatened to cut off my balls and use them as ear rings. That's a type of crazy I don't want to mess with. - Cubby_**

Seb laughs derisively. He punches in a response.

_**Just tell her you don't know details but that Kurt's ok. He just needs time and he'll contact her. Or don't... I'd love to see what ballrings look like. (: - S**_

There's a brief moment of waiting while watching his cell as it has a life of its own, and then a reply lights up the screen.

_**Ew. Also, you're an asshole. And didn't you say that emoticon's were too gay for your taste? You gave me so much shit when I sent you a winky face. - Cubby**_

Seb smiles at that, taking his time to write.

_**Yep. But I think... I sort of love them now. (; - S**_

He thinks of the exchange he'd had with Kurt about this same matter a while ago. How could he hate those stupid smiley faces now? Not when they reminded him of Princess; a moment between them that had radiated with excited longing. And the beginning construction of the bridge linking them, building a common ground where they once were floating recklessly about in space, unsure of each other.

_**If there was a little pukey face one that existed, that's what you'd be seeing right now. Just saying. - Cubby**_

_**I know it'd be puking out of love. Call me later. - S**_

_**All over your face. And yeah - if I don't bleed to death by way of ball loss first, dude. - Cubby**_

He puts his phone down, still smiling to himself. He thinks that Cubby would probably make some guy really happy one day. He thinks of Kurt and hopes that he's alright.

* * *

"Hey."

Kurt looks up from what looks to be an old photo album that he's clutching in his hands, sitting indian style on his large bed as Sebastian cautiously climbs down the basement steps.

"Hey," the brunette greets back, his voice tinged by a fierce neutrality.

"Where's Burt?"

Princess' shoulders slump ever so slightly as he looks back at the small book before responding.

"He - um - went to the shop. He goes there sometimes when he needs to blow off steam."

"What happened?" Seb asks, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

"Well - he was pretty upset with me."

"Why would he be upset with you?"

Kurt turns the page distractedly, looking defeated.

"I lied. To the detectives. And essentially... I made him lie too."

"Kurt - what do you mean?"

He smiles grimly, the gesture wraught with sadness.

"I - uh - I told them that I didn't remember anything."

Seb's mind was searching, trying to combat the growing confusion.

"Okay. But that's not really a lie. You don't really remember anything -"

"No. I do. They meant as far as how I know Sim..." He struggles, teetering precariously on the name as if it tasted too foul to speak aloud. "As far as how I'm acquainted with _him_. How we met. Why I was there. I lied."

"What did you say?" Sebastian breathes.

"They think I met him at Scandal's. That he was just some guy I'd met. Some guy who seemed nice enough so I kept in contact. And then he... well, you know how the story ends."

Sebastian swallows, his heart rate increasing, the emotions battling like gladiators within him: bloody and raw.

"I made my Dad and Carole go along with it. They agreed. Even though they can't seem to look at me right now."

"Why?" Seb whispers harshly. "Why the hell would you do that?"

"Why do you think?" Kurt answers, a sense of defiance present in the statement. Why, indeed...

Sebastian stands up, running his hand through his hair as the answer manifests itself, stinging like a swift slap to the cheek, taunting him, making him hate himself even more with every shuffled movement as he paces back and forth methodically.

"No. You can't - just, no. That's not it. You didn't do this for me. Please tell me that's not it. Please, Kurt."

"I'm sorry -"

"Fuck!' he yells spitefully. "You can't do that! Damn it! I'm not worth it. I'm not worth him getting away with this -"

"You said you loved me!" Kurt bellows, standing to face Sebastian as the album slides from his lap onto the floor. "Or was that all bull shit? Huh? Just some pathetic way to make me feel sorry for you because you feel guilty. Is that it?"

Sebastian's face feels hot, his fists balled up at his sides. His breathing heavy as he stares hard at Kurt, unable to articulate; the words stuck as if in a sludge-filled cess pool of endless regret.

"Answer me damn it," Kurt hisses. "You owe me that."

Sebastian wants to look away. This is too much. He can't take this... the way Princess' blue eyes jut through him, undress him and leave him naked to the world he's been too scared of being a part of for so long... a world where somebody actually gives a shit.

"I meant it then. I mean it now. I love you. Not that I know what that even means. What the hell would I know about that fucking feeling? But whatever it is... this?... it's enough that my brother doesn't matter. Enough that I want more for myself. Enough that I'm willing to be in your life however you'll have me, Kurt. As a friend, a made-up mentor, a fucking errand boy... I don't care."

Kurt's eyes are leaking as he sniffles through a choked burst of laughter, wiping at his eyes with fervor. Sebastian smiles through his own tears.

Kurt steps forward, throwing his arms around Sebastian's neck and burying his face in his chest. Sebastian hugs him tightly, taking in his perfect Kurt-like scent.

Eventually Kurt pulls back, his arms still linked around Sebastian.

"If I would've talked about you, then it probably would've led to talking about the girls. I did it for them too. And even though dad and Carole were pretty pissed, they agreed for that reason."

Sebastian knows exactly what Kurt means without further explanation.

Both Santana and Seb were legally considered adults, though Santana was virtually a run away with a record.

But Brittany hadn't legally reached adulthood yet. Likely meaning that she would've been taken into custody and immediately placed in the foster care system. They would've been split up. Maybe for good.

He did it for them... for all of them. So, that they could avoid being involved.

Seb is absorbed by the feel of Kurt against him, the warm breath tickling his skin, the blue eyes deep and brimming with unfathomable emotion.

He dips his head and brings his lips to rest against Kurt's. The arms around his neck tighten, a moan rumbling through the other boy, delicious and dripping with perfection. The kiss deepens, tongues caressing and finding a steady rhythm, slow paced and easy.

He could do this all day... Even if it stretched into forever... like forever would be easy.

They were too engrossed in each other to have overheard the racket sounding upstairs.

The shouts... _"Ah, hell to the no!"_

Consecutive thudding noises...

Followed by thunderous stomping.

The loud clamoring results in the sudden appearance of a heavily breathing Mercedes Jones standing at the bottom of the basement staircase with a furious expression; a thin latina rushing at her heels so quickly that she bumps into her from behind, nearly toppling them both over.

Santana's annoyance immediately transforms into a giddy amusement judging by the slow forming smirk that emerges at the sight of Sebastian and Kurt holding each other.

"See. Told you Madea. Nothing to worry about."

"Kurt Elizabeth Hummel. What the _hell_ are you doing?!"

"I - um - well -"

"We were just talking," Seb supplies, eyes wide with apprehension as he loosens his hold on the other boy.

"Yeah, 'cause that's exactly what it looks like Twiggy. This one," and she tilts her head with a swift jerk to indicate Santana, "said something about hearing shouting before I got here. I know you're not over here at his house, being all disrespectful and shouting at my boy, 'cause I already warned you before that I wouldn't hesitate to cause you bodily harm -"

"Oh shut it Weezy! It's obvious they weren't doing anything. Well, at least nothing that I wouldn't approve of."

They've managed to completely release each other now, standing awkwardly while facing the pair.

Mercedes' dark eyes narrow as she takes in the scene, still fuming, but somehow less menacing. If anything, an air of hurt slipping through her agitated facade.

"So is this why you've been avoiding me? I've called you like a thousand times. Left messages. Called your house phone and got dismissed by Carole or your Dad or was just leaving more messages. Finn wasn't at school so I couldn't ask him. I even started stalking Karofsky just to get some answers. Even he wouldn't tell me anything even though I knew that he knew more than he was saying - which of course was nothing."

"I don't have my phone Mercedes. I lost it." What he really meant was that he had forgotten it at the apartment. Sebastian hadn't thought to grab it on his way out. He just wanted Kurt to get to the hospital as soon as possible. The detectives apparently had never found it when sweeping the place.

"Still. You could've called me. You know my number by heart. And I know you do 'cause you sure as hell found a way to contact me when you forgot your phone at that midnight release of the Gray's Anatomy box set with hours of special features and needed a ride home. I nearly got grounded over that by the way since I snuck my daddy's car out. And honestly I got tired of being denied coming to see you by your parents, so I took it upon myself to come over anyway."

"Take it easy Mercedes -"

But Sebastian's retort was instantly quelled by the murderous glare shot in his direction. Santana looked as if Christmas had come early the way her full lips were tightly pressed together, chin quivering suspisciously and eyes alight with mirth.

"You're my best friend Kurt. Whatever's got you pushing me away, I can't believe you'd think that you couldn't tell me about it."

"Not that you would overreact or anything," Santana quips sarcastically.

"Shut it J-ho!"

"Funny. That's what I like to call her -"

"You too meerkat! Shut. It. Up."

At the moment, Kurt only has eyes for the black girl standing across from him, arms settled across her ample chest as she watches with a cool gaze. Sebastian can see the sadness looming in the pools of blue aimed at her.

"You're right Mercedes. I'm sorry for not contacting you sooner. I just - it's been pretty rough these last few days. And I guess, I didn't want... I guess I just didn't know how to tell you."

"Kurt, you know how to tell me everything. Why would this be any different?"

Kurt looks over at Sebastian then, a likely subconscious gesture; a plea for direction on how to map this out, how to explain this one, because it was anything but their normal confessions of unrequited love, scathing almost boyfriend encounters, solos they felt they should've gotten in that stupid glee club, or their biting insecurities. This was _definitely_ different.

"Um - we're gonna go. We'll be upstairs," Sebastian states softly, giving Kurt an encouraging nod before walking past Baby Oprah and leading Santana away by the arm.

"Wait - what?"

"Upstairs San. Now."

She rolls her eyes and forcefully tugs her arm away in mock irritation.

"Always gotta ruin the fun," she grumbles as they both ascend the staircase leaving the two teens alone to talk.

They're greeted by Carole standing at the opening of the staircase, Brittany standing behind her while wringing her hands together.

"Everything okay?"

"Yeah. I think it'll be fine. Kurt's just talking to her now," Sebastian explains.

"Sorry. I tried holding her back but - who're we kidding?" Santana states with a shrug of her shoulders. "I'd need five of me to accomplish that one."

"One of you is plenty enough. Trust me," Seb jibes.

"Well, let's leave them to talk. I'm gonna start putting dinner on. The more help the merrier," Carole poses, an offer that would gratefully keep them all occupied.

"Finn should be back from the store in a minute but we can get the vegetables started," she continues on as Santana follows her path into the kitchen. Sebastian begins treading after them, but then stops when he notices Brittany still standing there, her expression blatantly full of confusion.

"What's up Brit?"

"Is there really five of her? What if, what if I love the cyborg version and the real Santana is one of the other ones that I've never met before?"

Seb sighs, "no, kid. There's just one. And you unfortunately have the real one."

Brittany breathes a sigh of relief, smile beaming as she stops wringing her hands together and instead throws them over Sebastian's shoulders, pulling him into a hug.

"Good. Now I don't have to meet her and fall in love all over again."

"Nope. You're already covered."

She kisses his cheek and rushes after the other two women setting up in the kitchen.

"Somebody... just... give me strength," he breathes out to no one in particular as he trails in her wake, shaking his head with a mixture of exasperation and always present affection.

She had said it so casually. He doesn't think he remembered either of them ever really acknowledging their devotion with those actual words before... being in love. Maybe they hadn't needed to; maybe they just knew with every kiss, every bout of love making, every whispered word of reassurance after Simon had brought them down off their cloud of bliss that ultimately only existed between them two.

And once again, Brittany had produced another one of those moments that rendered him speechless with how profound, and touching, and just plain smart she could be... the humane, understanding that went well beyond actual intelligence... the kind of smart that meant she'd figured out her emotional capacity and her reason for being as easily as Seb could add one plus one... the kind of depth of character that he could never seem to locate when exposed to the hazards of this shitty world.

Maybe she was the real genius after all.

* * *

**A/N: **I know this one took a little longer than normal. Been busy with work and the holidays and family and all that kind of stuff. But anyway, I hope you guys liked it. Please review. My appreciation would swell beyond my body like a glowing aura... bright and full and touching other people with its awesomeness... I don't know what the hell I'm talking about either. Just review. Much love!


	19. Chapter 19

For the first time in a long time... maybe ever actually, he thinks that there's something hanging just out of his reach, but still attainable... possible even.

He can smell it with every wisp of the alluring aroma stemming from Carole's cooking.

The fragrance wafting across the table where they spend time exchanging weaves of conversation, warbled together and full of an odd delight despite the grim air accompanying the estranged trio. The air of not really believing in such exchanges after years of nothing but hurt and disappointment, but still finding them comforting, a strange solace that began to somehow seem normal amongst the group.

He can feel it in every brush of Kurt's fingertips across his skin.

Accidental caresses that leave a wake of goosebumps, like an invisible trail of fiery need. Every time they pass each other in the hall, trying rather awkwardly not to bump each other but failing everytime... or pass the remote control amongst themselves in between trashy reality television shows... every brief and innocent flicker of skin against skin acting like a promise of something bigger.

He can see it in the way that the family is letting them in.

Each day leading to less awkward snatches of weary eye contact and a 'walking on egg shell's' sort of disposition. He could see it in the soft smiles drifting between them, not ones illustrating uncertainty and an eagerness to relinquish themselves of their tainted company like he had known would be coming, but never seemed to. They were genuine. And kind of hopeful.

The kind that communicated that they were in fact in this together.

It hadn't been long. Perhaps a few weeks. But the Hudson-Hummel's and the three ex-prostitutes had found a rhythm.

Kurt and Finn of course still attended school, while Burt and Carole continued working. The girls and Seb often stayed indoors, trying to make themselves as scarce as possible while simultaneously attempting to refrain from feeling caged. The girls had been sleeping on an air mattress in Kurt's bedroom, while Seb had become accustomed to the living room couch.

Sebastian became a regular McKinley High acquaintance, like a fucking pet dog, waiting for Kurt outside the school gates after school every day. Most days taking the bus. Some days even opting to walk the few miles it took to get there.

He didn't mind. It got him out of the house anyway. Plus he simply ate up the wide smile he would receive once Princess appeared through the crowd of teenagers, eyes sparkling and practically giddy upon catching his eye.

He was happy that Kurt could still smile at him like that; that the kid didn't loathe him entirely like he honestly should.

And on the nights that Kurt would have a nightmare, of course only admitting it the next morning to Sebastian once he'd grilled him into submission after noting the kid's fatigued expression and garish palor, Seb only managed to hate himself partly into the next day.

Princess would refuse to talk to him if he overheard any of Seb's self blaming statements... and Sebastian hated not talking to Kurt somehow even more than he hated himself for the guilt. Which felt like a fucking miracle.

So he slowly learned to stop hating himself, or at least only in part, choosing to keep it to himself, because he knew how it made Kurt feel. Thusly, the action had turned into a subconscious method of letting it go; of giving into the belief that yeah - there actually could be more for him and that everything, no matter how shitty it had been, had led to this current state of maybe.

He knew they couldn't just keep staying there. There had to be a plan, some sort of long term solution. How long could a guy like Burt Hummel house damaged teenagers without expecting some sort of blue print for change?

It happened on a Thursday. Sebastian had felt it coming. The subtle looks that Burt would shoot him across the table during said dinners. Or the awkward clearing of his throat if he and Princess had been sitting maybe a bit too closely during their marathon's of random, crappy TV. Something had to give, so Sebastian took it upon himself to be the one that gave first.

Burt was on the garage floor, underneath Kurt's Navigator when it occured, Sebastian having found his way there after getting a drink of water from that damn Brita pitcher, smirking to himself over the memory of when he first laid eyes on the thing.

"Need some help?"

Burt peeks his head out, shoots the kid a wan smile, then ducks back underneath.

"Yeah. Hand me that three quarter wrench will you?"

Seb hands it over and then seats himself on the leather bound stool set up near the large overhauled tool bench.

"So?"

Sebastian was slightly taken aback by the gruff inquiry.

"What?"

"You tell me kid. You're the one that's out here looking for me. Last I checked, you've been doing everything in your power to not be in the same room with me. Especially alone."

Seb swallows reflexively, uncertain of how to respond due to the truth of the exclamation. He really had been avoiding the guy with the exception of their family dinners and sometimes over breakfast where he just couldn't escape without looking like a completely ungrateful ass. The silence apparently had been enough to prompt Burt from underneath the car, pulling himself out and wiping his hands on the already grease stained towel laid out near his waist. Burt sits up, and waits.

"I um - I just. I think we should talk about this."

"Meaning?"

"This... the girls and I."

Burt chuckles heartily. "You really have been hanging around Kurt a lot haven't you?"

Seb ducks his head, trying to hide the tinge of heat growing across his cheeks.

"Yeah he's like the walking grammar police."

"His Mom was the same way. 'It's you and I Burt, not me and you'. I just learned to roll my eyes and let her win. Eventually I learned to love that about her. Sometimes I'd even do it on purpose, say the non-dictionary versions of the language, just so she'd correct me."

Sebastian feels a spark of something, an understanding between them that felt palpable, genuine.

"Um, yeah. I get that."

"So, you were saying about the girls and you?"

"Right. I just think that we've stayed here long enough. I mean, it's already bad enough, what happened to Kurt and you guys having to deal with that. But I just can't have us imposing on your kindness anymore. It's asking too much."

"Uh huh. So what's your plan then?"

"Excuse me?"

"Your plan. You say that you're done with selling yourself and you want nothing to do with that bastard of a brother of yours. So what's your plan now?"

"I - I don't know," he admits quietly. He honestly didn't. But staying on just felt like the only part of the plan that he knew needed to come to fruition.

Burt sighs, throwing his grease rag over the top of the tool box and immediately returns his steely gaze to Sebastian, watching him carefully as he hastens on.

"You're right."

This admission actually causes Sebastian to feel a stab of surprise. He knows it shouldn't, logically he should've expected it. But somehow it still feels... surprising.

"You guys can't stay here forever. Legally you're adults. Well, most of you. And at some point you'll need to move on with your lives."

Seb finds himself nodding numbly, and feeling sort of detached.

"But that point ain't yet kid."

Sebastian narrows his eyes, the confusion etched in the knitting of his eyebrows.

"I don't - what do you mean?"

"I mean I want you to start working in the shop with me. Full time. And I asked a buddy of mine, a long time customer about taking on the girls. He owns that pancake house a few miles away. He's willing to hire both of them as a favor to me."

"Mr. Hummel -"

"Burt," the elder man amends.

"Right. Burt. None of us have ever really... worked."

"Not on planet earth with us normal life forms. But give it a try for a while. You might be surprised the focus and sense of purpose a regular nine to five can give you. Plus I know you guy's are running low on money. I also know you're too stubborn to ask for handouts. So this was my way of compromising."

Sebastian trails his eyes over his own clasped hands, slumped forward and speculative, unable to make eye contact as he considers everything.

"He's willing to take the girls on without any records or identification, and you all would get paid under the table of course. I believe in you guy's. Sure Santana might come off a bit frosty at first, but I have a feeling that she'd work harder than everybody in the place, if anything out of respect for you. And Brittany will be fine. She's charming and way too lovable to not weasel fat tips out of people."

"I won't be much help to you. I know enough to change the oil and maybe a tire but -"

"You'll learn. Give it time and you'll pick it up. But I'm offering this for you after a lot of thought, and I think it's a good place to start."

"I... I -"

"Just say thanks and we'll call it even for now."

"Um - thank you, Burt."

Burt's grin elongates as he pulls himself to his feet and claps Sebastian on the shoulder. He stalks past Seb and heads for the doorway, suddenly pausing when he reached the opening.

"Oh, also - here." He tosses Sebastian a set of keys. "Go pick Kurt and Finn up for me will you. I need a beer."

Seb chuckles. "Got it."

"Good." Burt turns back to exit and then abruptly looks over his shoulder again.

"Nearly forgot. I'm gonna talk to a lawyer. Figure how we can sort through all of this. Get your guy's' records, try to do whatever to clear you so you can get into school. Maybe get your GED, go to college. Just a thought."

Sebastian couldn't think of anything to say, but then his mouth was moving again.

"I'm gonna have to start keeping a tab on exactly how many thank's I owe you."

The skin around Burt's green eyes crinkles as the smile spreads deftly.

"Start by being good to my kid. Look out for him. You do that, consider us even."

Sebastian nods, almost struggling to release the breath that had hitched itself in his throat.

As Burt saunters off, he yells over his shoulder, "and keep your paws and your, uh - other parts to yourself. That's the other thing you can do. Don't think I haven't seen the way you two keep shootin' googly eyes at each other."

Sebastian opens his mouth, completely gaping at the now empty door frame. When he finally manages to clamp his mouth shut, he runs his hand through his hair warily, the stupid smile fixating itself on his face against his will.

So the ice surrounding the Ice King's heart wasn't a permanent fixture. Good to know.

* * *

Sebastian drives with a loose grip on the steering wheel, feeling superbly content. The knot that normally sat in the pit of his stomach like a gravelly rock, had vanished, dissolving itself under the warmth stirring within him.

He put on the radio and actually started whistling like an idiot in tune with a familiar country song that he hadn't heard in years.

When he pulls up to the school, he sighs, waiting with a thinly veiled exhilaration.

The hordes are pushing forward like a form of teenaged armageddon. He keeps his eyes peeled for that perfectly coifed hair, and the captivating ocean blue eyes that just do things to him on sight.

Instead he jumps back at the sudden appearance of yellowish, brown orbs clouded by a storm of frustration attached to a square face. He turns the stereo dial, immediately shutting off the radio and rolls down the passenger side window.

"To what do I owe the pleasure Cubby?"

"I told you to stop calling me that. And what are you doing here? In Kurt's car no less."

"Picking Princess and Gargantuteen up by request of the Ice King himself."

"So chauffuering. That the new gig instead of spreading your legs?"

"For today. And who's elephant sized dick got shoved up your ass today?"

"Whatever. I'm getting in."

"Um - no you're not."

"Wasn't asking Twink," Dave grumbles and pulls himself into the front seat, slamming the door shut.

"Don't you drive?"

"That's the point. Some of those fucking football assholes slashed my tires and pretty much wrecked my car."

"What? Why?"

"Why the fuck do you think?" Dave hissed while glaring incredulously at Sebastian.

Right. Seb understood right away what the implication meant.

"Oh. But - but how?"

"One of those dickless fuck's overheard me talking to Kurt about Scandal's. I thought we were alone in the bathroom but that wasn't the case. Probably took him all of a single class period to spread it to the rest of the guys. Anyway... whatever. I just gotta get out of here. I'll deal with getting it towed tomorrow."

"Damn. Sorry to hear that, Cubby."

"Nah. It's cool. It wasn't how I wanted it to go down, but there it is. Spray painted across my truck in bright letters that spell out 'faggot'. My coming out."

"You could always deny it. Nobody knows shit until you confirm it."

Dave shook his head vehemently.

"I thought I would be more... I don't know - devastated, I guess."

"But you're not?"

"No. Not like I thought I'd be. I mean I'm pissed cause my truck is useless and I'll probably have to get my dad to drive me in for a while. But no. I'm not broken. I know it makes absolutely no fucking sense, but I feel kind of relieved. Weird, right?"

Sebastian elicits a subtle shake of his head.

"No Dave. I get it. Honestly. I think I had that same feeling, that same kind of moment a little bit earlier. You can't explain it, but you just feel... better... hopeful."

"Yeah. Weird."

Dave exhales and breaks into a fit of chuckling. Sebastian smiles at the other boy's random outburst.

"Now you're being a fucking weirdo."

"It's funny. Turns out Jones was a woman of her word. She never said anything and I barely even know her. And the people who I was supposed to trust, who I've hung out with for years, turned on me in the blink of an eye. It's just... funny. And I think knowing that I have at least some support, even if it's of the unexpected sort, including a complete douche like you... I'll be good."

"Thanks. I've never been more flattered."

"I bet."

As the two share a moment of silence, both basking in the tentative swell of elation mixed with determined acceptance, a very familiar figure bounds up to the passenger side of the car, his leather messenger bag jostling against his hip, and several brunette strands falling free from the strategically arranged hairspray as he nearly collapses forward upon reaching the SUV.

"David. I've been looking everywhere for you. Are you okay? Did you already go to Principal Figgin's to report it? We can go to the police station and file a report -"

"Kurt - Kurt," Dave stated pointedly, immediately suspending Kurt's agitated rambling.

"I'm okay."

At this admission, Kurt gives him a doubtful expression which only makes the dude smile harder.

"Seriously. I was just telling Sebastian here that I - um, I was looking for a way to finally just come out with it. Now here it is. And I'm okay."

"David. I know you're putting on a brave face now. Believe me I know. But I know this has to hurt -"

"A bit. But we only have a few weeks before this part of our lives is over, right? And then we move on. And I don't know about you, but I can't wait to leave this place in the dust along with these fucking moronic assholes who'll never amount to shit except flipping burgers and popping out ungrateful little bastard kids. I'm gonna be doing things. I'm gonna play college ball, get an education, become something great, and never fucking look back."

Sebastian feels proud of Cubby, but his words twist something in his gut. That fucking knot somehow starting to redevelop, dilating and enlarging with each breath.

"Well will you at least let me have your truck towed to my dad's shop? I can't help feeling like it's my fault. Please, it's the least I can do."

"Don't start doing that 'it's all my fault' bull shit. Spare me Hummel. We both know it's not true. And yeah - sure. But let it wait till tomorrow. I think - I think I just need to go home first and talk with my dad. Explain what happened. He'll want to go all wild west shoot 'em up style when he hears about it. I want to talk to him and give him some time to process everything so maybe he won't be arrested for going ape shit."

"Okay. Can we give you a ride?"

"You know, I think I'll walk."

Sebastian seems to shake himself awake then.

"We can take you man. It's not a problem."

"Thanks. But I really want to walk. Clear my head, you know?"

Sebastian nods but can't help giving one last ditch effort.

"Do you really think you should be walking around after this? I've been through a lot of shit but I've found that almost nothing is worse than a bunch of ignorant self hating teens with something to prove. Maybe except for thirsty crack addicts. Those suck pretty bad too."

Dave grimaces, his expression stony and full of 'I dare someone to try', then pushes the door open to emphasize his point, as if anyone daring enough to pester him in anyway would find that dealing with his inanimate truck was a much more wise decision. Sebastian raises his hands as if in mock surrender.

"Alright Cubby. We'll catch you later?"

"Yeah. I'll text you."

Kurt ushers Dave into a hug, holding his large frame as if somehow the larger figure would crumble at his feet.

He released the larger boy and stood back.

"You've really grown into a wonderful person David Karofsky."

He smiles shyly at Kurt, holding the backpack strap cutting into his shoulder self consciously, his other hand now buried in his letterman jacket pocket.

"Thanks, Fancy. Later."

The hulking teen quickly traipses off, not even bothering to look back. Kurt settles himself in the passnger seat, closing the door with a swift slam and pulls the seat belt across his body before officially turning to address Sebastian.

"I can't believe they would do that to him. I just - they always gave me such a hard time but, they never took it that far."

"Was it really that bad?"

"Yeah. There's still a huge crowd of people staring it, taking pictures. Poor David, there's not one kid in this county who won't know by tomorrow."

"Well the jocks probably took it a little more personally this time around. Dave's supposed to be one of them."

"Thank Gaga that isn't the case. He's so much better than all of them. I'm just happy to finally get to see the 'real' Dave. The one those Neanderthal's will never get the privilege of knowing."

"Yeah."

"So... did you knock my dad out with one of his own tools or put poison in his coffee?"

"What?"

"To get the car. I figured you had to have done it by force because I can't imagine that you'd have gotten it any other way."

"Poison's lethal. I'd hate to actually rid the earth of him. And his three quarter wrench was looking promising for a bit, but I don't exactly love the idea of the mess it would involve."

"Hm. True on both counts."

"In the end believe it or not, he just handed me the keys. He decided he'd rather have a beer then have to play chauffeur to a bratty boy princess and a giant mannequin."

Kurt smacks him in the arm but smiles through the gesture.

"Rude."

"But true. Speaking of which, where is Gigantor?"

"Got a ride with a Puck. They skipped out on their last few classes to go watch a movie or some tripe that only boy's who enjoy boobs, random acts of violence and no plot find fascinating. They probably missed what happened to Dave's truck. I'm sure Finn would've said something if he'd seen it."

Seb smiles sympathetically. He actually did feel for the Cubster. He decided then that it was time to brighten the mood a bit.

"So are you saying you actually watched most of Matthew McConaughey's movies because of the plot? Seriously? Sahara?"

Kurt looks annoyed, but the blush slowly emanates through his chilly temperament. Sebastian's lip curls into a knowing smirk.

"Thought so. Now my liege, please allow me to escort you to the Ice Palace, post haste."

Kurt turn's on the radio as if to punish Sebastian for his retort. Seb just smiles and allows himself to lean back and enjoy the ride.

But as they drive, the smile falters and slips free of his face. Sebastian can't shake the feeling that crawled up his spine and buried itself back into his heart and mind. Dave's words had definitely struck a cord, whether he'd meant it to or not.

Kurt would be graduating soon, as much as he avoided talking about it, and Seb would be damned it he let Kurt stay behind in this fucking hick stain of a town just for him. They were going to have to have a talk. They needed to figure out where they stood with each other. They needed to talk about how Kurt was likely going to have to leave him behind.

While they made their way toward the Hudson-Hummel's, or the 'Hudmel's' as Sebastian had affectionately nick-named the family, Dave Karofsky had already made it a quarter of the way home by foot.

He never realized that he was being followed.

He never suspected, not even when he had entered an area just outside of a deserted looking office district, never looked up to see the figure who had parked a few yards back, walking briskly after him... he was just thinking carefully of how he was going to break the news to his dad.

He never suspected anything until he felt something pressed against his back, something hard and cool enough that the frigidness of the object actually permeated through the material of his letterman's jacket.

"Open your mouth, I silence it for good. Now move."

As he walks, hands raised in surrender, it feels like he's walking through a thick fog, like he's not in control of his own body. The last thing he thinks about is Kurt and Sebastian, his dad, and how he'll probably never play football again, before a sharp pain floods his skull and everything goes black.

* * *

**A/N:** Hey there. I know it's been waaaaay long since I've updated. I've been sidetracked with life and holiday madness. But anyway I finally found some time and got this one up. I think we're working toward the end. I'm not sure how much longer as we still have some important plot points to get through but I feel like we're heading down the final stretch. Remember, I warned you about the darkness... and please lay some reviews on me to let me know there's still some interest in this fic out there. Many thanks to you all and for those who celebrate, hope you enjoyed your holiday's and will enjoy this upcoming new year!


	20. Chapter 20

"Alright. So you gonna tell me why we're here Sparkles?"

Kurt's smile is laced with nostalgia, like the sweet gesture of the child version of Kurt he had seen in his dreams.

He doesn't reply, not immediately, instead allowing his expression to explain, the blue eyes brimming with a genial resignation. Kurt exhales slowly as if steeling himself, and then crawls out of the passenger seat.

"Princess? Hey - Kurt!"

The teenager presses forward, trekking up the dirt trail toward a cluster of trees. He turns around once he reaches the peak of the small hill, yelling out, "are you coming?"

Sebastian huffs, his mouth then thinning into a tight line.

Burt wouldn't like this at all. He was supposed to just pick them up and head back. Now he was out in the boonies someplace, in what felt like the middle of nowhere on Kurt's insistance.

He takes another beat before swiftly unfastening his seatbelt, then rolls the window up and turns off the ignition.

Kurt has already disappeared. Sebastian feels an eerie sense of deja vu as his mind forms pictures of the scenes in his dreams. He wonders briefly if he'll come across a field of golden brush once he reaches the top... maybe see the woman who had haunted his subconscious for so long.

His eyes center on a large body of water, the water rippling calmly along the shallow bank once he makes it to the hill top. He notes a small bench a few yards ahead; a familiar boy sitting with both hands on either side of his poised body, looking out at the water with a peaceful care.

His smile feels easy as he candidly makes his way over to the weather worn bench.

"May I?" Sebastian nods toward the bench in question.

"Please," Kurt supplies playfully. Seb plants himself directly next to Princess, his body automatically folding forward as he clasps his hands together and simply trains his gaze on the sight before him, both boys lost in their own thoughts.

Eventually Seb's anxiousness wins him over.

"So, I ask again, why are we here exactly?"

Kurt takes a second, eyes glazed over with the ghost of so many memories before finally speaking.

"It's beautiful now - the lake. But I love it mostly when it's frozen over. I used to come here with my mom and dad when I was little to go ice skating. They'll still shut it down during the holiday season. Lots of people come out to skate... couples and families. It's been a few years since I've gone skating, but I'll still stop by sometimes on the off season. Just to get away for a bit. To actually think without all of the everyday crazy."

Sebastian smiles. "So this is your favorite spot?"

"Besides a stage. Or my room. Yeah."

Sebastian thinks quietly about the disclosure. For whatever reason, Kurt wanted to share this - something this special - with him. He feels a surge of disgust arise within himself. But it was battling, warring with another feeling: adoration and gratefulness.

Kurt turns to look at him for the first time since they seated themselves on the bench.

"Do you have a favorite spot?"

Seb's smirk exudes a promise of some snide response, causing Kurt to bluster, "and before you ruin my genuine curiousty with some sexually depraved comment, no, I don't mean it that way."

Sebastian snorts, shaking his head as if to rid himself of the urge to do exactly that.

"You have to admit it was a perfect opportunity -" Kurt makes a point to glare a hole in his face, causing Seb to clear his throat and hasten on, "but yeah. I think I do. It's not as beautiful. Actually it's kind of stupid in comparison."

Kurt eyes him sadly, nudging his shoulder as a form of encouragement. Seb swallows, his eyes still laid out over the body of water as the words leave his lips.

"My building. The roof, anyway. It's high enough that you can actually get a pretty good view of the neighborhood. Night is the best though. You can see so many lights. Like dozens of little stars burning through the dark; like some weird wall of light that reminds me of real people - what people really are. Not my customers or my brother... people who laugh and love and just exist in a bright - like, aura - full of life. And I guess happiness. I'd usually find myself out there many a night, having a cig and just thinking."

_Escaping_, he thinks inwardly.

Kurt didn't scoff, or make condescending remarks. He just smiled sweetly and worded rather breathlessly, "that sounds nice."

His eyes drift to the feel of Kurt's hand intwining with his. He looks up into the softest hue of blue.

"Sorry. I sort of went off on a tangent. It's just some stupid roof top."

Princess' orbs trace over his own, then slip across the skin of his lips and back up again.

"No. It's not. It's perfectly you."

He's inching closer, an almost magnetic draw pulling him forward until lips are pressed against Princess'. It's chaste, a barely there brush of lips that somehow feels as powerful as any forceful battle of teeth clashing and tongues wrestling.

When they pull away, they rest their foreheads together, Sebastian's hands slipping up the sides of Kurt's face, holding him there, needing him to be there. Lost in drinking each other with the meeting of their eyes.

Seb hadn't realized until Kurt's hand came up and wrapped around it; the familiar necklace had spilled out from his shirt, now sitting prettily against the pale palm. Kurt's eyes well as he observed the bull trinket, the sign of the Taurus, turning it over in his fingers as if he couldn't believe it.

"You still have it."

"I always had it."

"I - I never knew."

"What did you think I did with it?"

"Honestly? Threw it away."

"No. I didn't. And I don't plan to."

The last part of his sentence wasn't to be taken at face value. There was the heavy presence of an unstated, but just as real promise dangling from each syllable.

"I don't plan to," he repeats in a whisper, the words cloaked with a determined hope of communicating what he hadn't yet said, but was there, festering inside of him like a wonderful sickness.

This time the kiss is needier, blazing with passion and a bloom of desire that all but swallowed them whole.

Kurt moaned into his mouth, causing Sebastian to lean over him, the smaller boy finding himself lying on his back on the bench as they continued to explore their mouths in a flurry of blissfully wet, and sated connection.

Sebastian isn't thinking. He can't. Not with the feel of having Kurt pressed into the bench underneath him, his hands roving underneath the cashmere sweater and lingering against flawless, porcelain skin. He kisses Kurt's throat, the other boy writhing and eliciting delicious moans at the contact.

Seb ruts against him, needing to initiate friction, gasping when he feels Kurt's hand cup him through his jeans.

He pulls away, meeting lust blown eyes swirling with a darkened shade of cool blue. They stare at each other, slightly out of breath as they slowly, tentatively begin to re-engage.

Kurt stroking Sebastian through his pants while Seb's eyes flutter shut, his hips starting to pump in tandem with Princess' ministrations.

"Is that okay?" Kurt poses shyly.

Sebastian barely manages to nod as he continues to rut forward.

Eventually he can't take it. He had to have more, feel more. He grabs Kurt's free hand, trapping it in a firm grip above his head. Kurt's sudden intake of breath causes him to freeze.

He looks down.

He could seriously drown himself in the lake at the sight.

Princess had his eyes closed, squeezed so tightly that his face was scrunched in what looked to be a painful grimace. He was trembling, but no longer from a source of ecstasy or sexual desire.

When the blue eyes open, several tears leak and fall over the peak of milky flesh, rolling and fading onto the wood of the aged bench.

He doesn't have to say it. He knows the exact reason behind the other boy's peculiar reaction.

He removes his hand and lightly trails his fingertips over Kurt's cheek, wiping away the sad water with a gentle brushing motion.

Sebastian brings his own fingers to his lips, kissing the pad of the fingers that had relinquished the translucent path crawling across Kurt's slightly reddened cheeks, all while keeping steady eye contact.

He doesn't want to rush. Too quickly and Kurt will collapse in on himself.

He hated his brother more than ever. And more than ever, he needed to wipe away his memory. To kiss every foul taste or touch the fuck had ever plagued upon the boy who held his heart in his hand, into oblivion. He won't allow Princess to be caged by fear of a shadow, a ghostly presence of harmful, unwanted caresses. He won't let him stay locked up behind iron bars of self doubt, feelings of worthlessness or any other mode of self depracation his brother had unleashed. Sebastian and the girls had been enough. No more victims. He was going to take it all away...

Sebastian slowly brings his lips to Kurt's, kissing carefully and then brushes a chaste trail over each cheek, on the neatly lined brow line, and then finally over the now closed eye lids. Kurt seems calmer, his breathing less ragged and his body settling into each graze of flesh against his.

He gently threads his fingers through Kurt's, this time bringing the clasped hands up over Kurt's head in a shared embrace.

When blue eyes flicker open this time, they're absent of that trepidation and panicked apprehension that shined within them shortly before. They're warm, pooling with a wetness that bordered invitation.

Seb presses himself more fully into Kurt, the other boy mewling pleasurably, arching into him. Sebastian smiles, happy that he finally got something in his life right that mattered.

They kiss again, easy, and careful... until Kurt is nipping at his bottom lip, and probing with his tongue.

Sebastian is grinding against Kurt, and God - he can feel Kurt's hardness through the skin tight black jeans which only carries his pace into a steadfast rhythm.

They're rocking together, both moaning into each other mouth's as they keep tasting lips, tongues raking over skin and meeting again within the soft caverns of their mouths.

Eventually Seb is full on thrusting, fucking against Kurt who now has his legs wrapped around Seb's waist. Sebastian is getting closer, feels the orgasm building. Kurt's wanton cries completely undoing him...

"Mm - oh - S-Sebastian."

Gasping, breathing, groaning...

"Kurt. Please - fuck."

Sebastian is glued in the crook of Kurt's neck and shoulder, biting at the exposed skin and planting lips firmly against the area, trying to maintain some semblance of control as he thrusts vigorously; each one harder and quicker in succession than the last.

"Oh, oh, aah, right there. Yes - yes - yes. Mm, Sebastian -"

"Fuck. Kurt - I'm gonna, I'm gonna -"

He groans as the pleasure shoots through him, rolling in waves of an electric, rapturous thrill that overwhelms him, ending in him collapsing into the boy who's a stuttering mess underneath him. A final whine of perfect release leaving the kiss swollen lips of his counterpart as they leapt off the edge together.

They just lay.

Both of their breathing labored and slowly staggering into a natural measure of normalcy.

When Sebastian finally pulls away, just enough to take in Kurt's expression, he can't help but beam down at him like a fucking man who just won the lottery for the mega million.

Kurt simply smiles back, and does something that causes Sebastian to hold his breath. The necklace that had once again escaped the confines of his t-shirt, dangles precariously near the kid's full lips.

Princess takes the bull in his mouth, and tugs down with his teeth, bringing Sebastian toward him. He then removes the trinket from his mouth, holding it instead between his fingers, blue eyes cemented to Seb's green as he uses the chain to close the distance between them, pulling him the rest of the way down and kissing him fervently.

Sebastian groans into the kiss, each of them smiling in between every press of their lips and lingering traverse of tongue.

A few minutes later, Kurt is leaning against Sebastian, his head settled on his shoulder and long fingers buried in the cotton material of his t-shirt, while Seb had draped his arm over the back of the bench and the other man protectively.

They hadn't been naked. There had been no penetration or stimulation of the oral variety... But for Seb, it somehow felt better than anything he could ever remember. It was sloppy, uncoordinated, really just two teenaged boy's dry humping to get off. But his heart knew better.

"Thank you."

Sebastian tilts his head in order to fully observe Kurt, lost at why that particular comment had left his lips.

"For what?"

"For being you."

"I'm not that great, Princess."

"No. You're better. More than you know."

Sebastian sighs.

"This is probably where I should tell you that I love you."

"Probably. But only if you mean it."

Sebastian grins in satisfaction. Because for some reason, that shit seemed like a no brainer. As easy as listening to one of Brittany's comically asinine theories about alien take over's or Santana rolling her eyes in perfect sync with her snarky, often crude remarks that you know were only a cover up for how much she cared...

As easy as giving into the realization that you would amount to nothing after being fucked and spoiled by so many faceless figures...

For a moment, he struggles. His logical mind making a defiantly fast comeback after taking a back seat during he and Kurt's encounter.

He remembers all of the sudden, the need to talk; to discuss why they would never make it in the long run and how Kurt needed to focus on making a life for himself in whatever part of the country he ended up finding best suited his talents and needs...

"I love you, Kurt."

Yeah... but that shit could wait. At least for now.

This moment, right now - it was theirs and only theirs. Not even the plaguing awareness of self pity and guilt deserved to steal this moment away.

"I love you too."

He squeezes Kurt to him, not caring that his own eyes are shining annoyingly bright. They stay like that for a while longer, just watching the water and breathing in this moment.

"Hey, Princess?"

"Hm?"

"I look like I pissed all over myself."

Kurt sits up in order to assess the declared area of damage. He covers his mouth with both hands as the giggles spill forth.

"It's not funny. You're just lucky you have on fucking midnight colored pants."

Princess hiccups himself back under control and pats Seb's shoulder in mock sympathy.

"This is true. I'm sorry for laughing at your - uh - pre-_dick_-ament."

"That's it. You're so going in that water -"

"I apologized - I'm sorry - I couldn't help myself!"

Seb stalked after Kurt who had bolted from the bench, trying to ward him off with his submissive, almost apologetic posture. But Sebastian was too quick as he easily scooped Kurt off the ground, ironically holding him bridal style as he marched purposefully toward the water; the brunette kicking and squealing at the prospect of being tossed unceremoniously into a likely freezing body of water.

"Stop, stop! I give up okay?! I surrender!"

Sebastian halts a few feet from the water's edge.

"Though your apology was thoughtful, I'm not sure it's enough to truly appease me of the shame and humiliation you've caused me by laughing at my dick stain. So, in you go," and Sebastian moves in a fashion that suggested he was honestly prepared to release Kurt.

"Wait, wait! What do you want?"

"Is this a negotiation attempt?"

"Very much so. Now what do you want from me?"

There was something about the exclamation that stabbed at his heart. Pierced it clean through and left it to bleed slowly out. There was something about the words that made him want to say so many things... so many responses that would never be right, because he would never be right for Kurt.

In one fell swoop, he opened his mouth, closed it, and then opened it, uncertain of what he could say, but knowing that this moment was officially over. He gently let Kurt fall from his grip, placing him on his feet.

He thinks of Burt's words from before. The one's he disregarded as he defiled Kurt on one of their family spots from happier times. Fuck, what was wrong with him?

Seb wasn't supposed to have touched him let alone...

"Sebastian? What's wrong? Why did you get so quiet?"

"You asked what I wanted."

"Yeah, but - I was only joking around. I wouldn't have said anything if I knew it would upset you -"

"It's not that. I just... I really care for you. I've never cared for anybody like I do you. And - and that's gotta be love, right? It's gotta be," he breathes, the tears swimming, and on the cusp of flowing freely over his cheeks.

Kurt takes his hand, watching him with an air of sadness that clutches at his resolve. He doesn't speak or provide the explanation that Seb so desparately seems to be seeking. He simply waits with bated breath.

"Because the honest answer... the one I want to say, is you. All of you. Every day."

Princess' eyes gleam, a lone tear sliding on a one way course over perfect skin.

"But the right one. The right answer... is for you to be happy."

Sebastian barely feels the moisture spill over. He only really registers the soft rub of the other man's fingers wiping away the stupid evidence of his absolute weakness.

"Why can't me being happy, be _because_ I'm with you? Why does it need to be separate?"

"Do I really need to answer that?"

"No. Because I've heard it all. All the reasons why you're not good enough for me. How can I forget when you won't let me?"

"Kurt -"

"Wait. Let me finish."

Sebastian has his mouth open ready to retort, but instead slides it closed, nodding for Princess to continue with his fruitless words. He could at least humor the kid.

"I never believed in God. I still don't. But a few years ago, when my dad had a heart attack and I thought I was going to lose him, I started to believe in something else."

Kurt grips both of Seb's hands between his own, searching Sebastian's face with a flittering smile, a gesture somehow saturated with both grimness and joy.

"I started to believe in the love of two people. That as long as you always believe in each other, you can get through anything. No matter how dark, or sad, or painful. I believed in my dad back then, and more than ever now, even when he was trying to push you away. Because I get why he was doing it. But right now - I have somebody else that I believe in. And that stubborn, crass, idiotic bastard is here with me now. Still trying to convince me that he's not good enough, when my heart already decided the contrary a while ago."

The gasp escapes him, a sob erupting as he pulls Kurt to him, gripping him like he would float into the abyss and completely disappear from existence.

They're kissing again, a fresh taste that went beyond a simple sexual need. It was that thing that Sebastian swore always eluded him, mocked him, and left him barren and full of wishful yearning...

That four letter word that seemed comical when ushered through the lips of say, Matthew McCougnahey during one of those God awful rom-com's that Kurt not so secretly pined over...

That fucking word that he never remembered hearing except for in passing between strangers: other children being kissed on their foreheads and taken home by loving parents after having a full play day at the park, a young Sebastian swinging idly on the swing, lonely and wondering if Simon would ever tell him the same one day...

He loved this kid. And that was that.

Kurt pulled away, his smile beaming through the sniffling, wet face.

"The heart wants what it wants meerkat. Stop fighting against it, and try fighting for it."

Sebastian manages a smirk, chortling at how vulnerable and likely sloppy looking he is right now, with his face probably blotchy and gross with wetness. He places a chaste kiss on Kurt's lips and then takes his hand.

"Speaking of your dad, we went for ice cream or something equally innoncent if he asks."

"And your pants?"

"I have a bladder problem."

"You'd rather him think that you actually peed on yourself?"

"The tools, Kurt - the tools."

"Point taken. We can talk to Carole about some treatment options she would recommend when we get home."

"Smart man. Now let's go."

They leave as the sun began to set.

Sebastian didn't know what, or how, or any sensible reasoning or logic for the last few hours of his existence on this planet. He just knows that he feels different... a little less burdened.

And it actually feels... pretty damn good.

* * *

**A/N: **So... yep. It was time for some smut. Didn't want to put a warning at the beginning of the chap because I wanted it to be appreciated for the surprise that it hopefully was. I picked up on the not so subtle hints for some Kurt/Seb interaction, lol. I wanted this chap to solidify Kurt and Seb's feelings for each other and give Kurt the opportunity to directly give Seb shit about his continued self sabotage. Let's just hope that it is indeed a turning point for the better and Seb is finally seeing himself as worthy. Maybe just maybe. I probably_ should_ change the status of this story to Angst and/or Hurt/Comfort... shit is chalk full of both.

I've been feeling pretty sick (cold I think) so I ended up staying in bed today. But it allowed for me to get some writing done. So me feeling crappy, has been both a treat and a curse. And yes, how could I throw this smutty, angsty love fest at you after what happened to Dave? And not even bother to address it? That's exactly why some sexual friction and skin rubbing was needed. To make up for how the last one ended. It's all building up like pop rocks in a coke can peeps and death will be coming if it hasn't already happened of course. Danger is lurking...

Also, side note: I don't hate Matthew McCougnahey. I just thought it would be funny for Kurt to have a celebrity crush who Seb could taunt him over. He's an awesome actor... but some of his movies... not so much. I love you guys for your continued support! Leave me your thoughts as a sign of good tidings for a happy new year!


	21. Chapter 21

When he hadn't heard from Dave, he just chalked it up to bad timing.

That maybe he had gotten caught up with speaking with his father, and just hadn't been able to step away to text. That in the grand scheme of things, assuaging your friend's concern just wasn't as important when the world around you was starting to crack and split apart.

He just needed time. That was all.

When Paul Karofsky, David's father, showed up at their door around midnight, apologizing profusely about the time and muttering about Dave never coming home, that feeling that had been gnawing in the depths of his innards earlier... the one that he had firmly attempted to ignore and pass off as nothing but misplaced worry, grumbled and pulsated in dissent.

He looked a lot like Dave.

He was tall, with a prominent, stalky build. More of the latter than his son. The same honey colored eyes. But his were aged, currently muddled with uncertainty and slow coursing fear.

He rubbed his hand over his slightly graying goatee, a nervous gesture no doubt, as both Sebastian and Kurt had recounted what had happened earlier today, only causing that thinly veiled panic to shine brighter in Mr. Karofsky's eyes... the one's that looked so much like Dave's.

Half an hour later, Carole was bringing Mr. Karofsky another cup of coffee which he quietly thanked her for, his eyes barely looking up from their position on the floor, un-seeing and detached.

Burt was leaning on the end of the love seat, Carole reclaiming her seat and allowing Burt to place his hand on her shoulder in a gesture of comfort.

Seb was sitting in a position not unlike the one that he had found himself in earlier that day on that park bench, leant forward, hands knitted together while Kurt brushed against his leg, his affect the direct opposite of Seb's as observed in his rigid posture.

They were sitting on the couch. Seb's blankets tossed aside in a crumpled heap on the floor. Both boys sitting close enough that Sebastian could feel the warmth of Kurt's body heat radiating through his thin pajama pants.

They had contacted the police.

They said that they couldn't do anything until Dave had been missing for at least twenty four hours.

Twenty four hours...

The shit that could be done to someone in that time frame...

Sebastian's mind darkened with the possibilities, each one making him wish that Cubby was already dead, if anything to avoid the horrific things conjured in his mind's eye.

Fucking hick town with their bull shit excuse for law enforcement. Even with the evidence of the truck, which Burt had agreed to tow first thing in the morning, it hadn't been enough to garner a quicker reaction; to justify that Dave deserved someone to care enough to do something.

Teen vandalism... Practical joke gone wrong... Dave was probably just staying at a friend's house to blow off steam after what had happened...

Seb sneered to himself. Show's what the fuck they know. Dave didn't have any friends anymore. Not now anyway.

And the one's that he did have were sitting here, seeping with worry and a sense of foreboding dread.

Several hours later everyone had gone back to bed. Mr. Karofsky had vacated on the promise to stay in touch looking a bit more worse for wear, but still clinging to the hope that maybe Dave had run off, milling about somewhere in a confused, flustered haze at some buddy of his house.

Finn had never arisen, missing the entire commotion due to being the heaviest sleeper known to man. The girls had remained down stairs, knowing it was best given their circumstances to avoid raising unwanted questions, to simply stay out of sight.

It was dark. All the lights having been extinguished once the group had retired, and Seb was tossing incessantly trying to force sleep to overtake him. It wasn't happening.

He heard it before he felt it.

The tell tale shuffling, quiet breathing, followed by the slight bowing of the couch cushion underneath the lithe body.

"Are you awake?"

Sebastian couldn't help by smile a little as he whispers, "yeah." He rolls over, shifting on his back and looking through the darkness to glimpse Princess.

"Sebastian. What if they killed him?"

He was surprised by the monotonous tone; the quickness in which he had worded the worst.

"I... I don't know, Princess. I don't know."

"But they wouldn't have, right? They wouldn't have taken it that far?"

Seb reaches out, finds Princess' arm through the dark, travels downward and closes his hand over the other boy's.

He didn't know what to say to that. But when he heard the sniffling, he instinctively sits up and pulls Kurt into him.

He felt the teen's hands digging into his back, clinging desparately in hopes of quelling the unanswered questions floating in the air like enemy bombs waiting to drop down from murky skies.

He didn't voice the thoughts that secretly lingered in the back of his mind. He wouldn't let them materialize fully, definitely wouldn't dare vocalize them.

But it was there. Beleaguering, haunting him like an affliction.

What if it wasn't one of those idiotic jocks?

What if...

No. Just - no. He wouldn't let the thought formulate completely. He distracts himself by refocusing on the man in his arms, melting into the embrace and letting himself simply breathe him in.

They fall asleep holding each other.

The next morning, Burt doesn't say anything when he finds Kurt tangled up in Sebastian on the couch.

The tenderness with which the sandy haired teen is holding his son to his chest is so reminiscent of how he remembered holding Kurt's late mother, he decides to pretend that he never saw a thing.

* * *

Finn marches into the house later that afternoon looking quite ready to rip someone, really anything apart.

He was quickly trailed by Kurt who is clutching his messenger bag with a brutal fierceness; almost as if attempting to shield himself from the rage he could see clearly burning in Finn's dark eyes.

"Finn, stop! You almost got suspended."

"I know. But one of those assholes knows something. I know it -"

"Hey, hey! What's with the language? You know better than to talk like that," Carole reprimands as she enters the living room, a stern countenance standing boldly in opposition to the wall of anger surrounding the tall frame.

Finn is still fuming, but being scolded by his mom has seemed to reinstate at least a modicum of restraint as he bites his lip, and grumbles, "Sorry. It's just - those - _guy's_ - what they did to Karofsky's truck... I know one of them's gotta know more than what they're saying. God you would think the guy that's supposed to be the dude's best friend would at least know something."

Sebastian looks curiously at Finn. He'd never heard anything about a best friend before.

"What friend?"

Finn vaguely looks in Seb's direction.

"Azimio Adams. They've been like - best friend's since middle school. But he's been acting pretty weird ever since the whole thing with Dave's truck happened. Actually, he was acting sort of weird before then."

"Do you think he knew? Before the truck. About Dave, I mean?" Kurt questions.

"He could've. Now that I think about it, I did notice that him and Dave haven't been attached at the hip as much. They used to always be around each other. But not really lately."

"I think it's safe to say that he probably knew. Or at least suspected," Sebastian states surely. "Tends to happen when your closet door starts cracking open."

"Yeah, well he swore to me that he had nothing to do with the truck. Swore on his Grandpa, which even I know means he's serious. He even looked a little sad when I asked him about Karofsky being gone. Apparently Karofsky's dad had went by their house before he came by ours last night. Azimio had no clue he'd been gone."

Sebastian can appreciate the agitation, but coming from Finn, he had to ask.

"So why are you so worked up about it Hudson? I thought you couldn't stand Karofsky?"

Finn's jaw clenches, the color around his knuckles fluctuating from a pink to a whitish tint as he squeezes his fists tighter. His dark eyes snap over to Kurt, shift to the carpet, and then rove back up to meet Seb's searching gaze.

Ah. This was about his own bull shit: his past mistakes with Kurt.

He had heard the story. About how Finn had flipped out on Kurt a few years ago, regarding the kid as, 'faggy' and implying that Kurt had all but sickened him, which had nearly cost them their family. Burt had kicked him out and the two families had spent time apart before they finally worked it out.

It was in the past, long forgiven according to Kurt. But it seemed that Sebastian wasn't the only one still struggling with the issue of being guilt ridden from past complications.

"I just don't think anybody deserves what happened. Not even Karofsky. Wrong is wrong at the end of the day."

Sebastian hadn't missed the look of pride that had briefly glazed over Carole's face while taking in her son. She claps her hands together as if to break up the tension that had enveloped the space.

"Well, arguing over it isn't going to help anything. Finn I want you to go to room and start working on your homework -"

"Mom. C'mon, it's not -"

"Go," Carole interrupts sternly. Finn exhales, unclenching his fists and coolly stalks upstairs without another word. She turns to Kurt.

"Did he actually get into a fight?" she queries without any heat.

"More of a shouting match. He was going at it with that jerk, Josh Parker, from the football team."

Josh... Josh... why did that name sound familiar to him?

Right.

The kid who's nuts Seb put in a vice grip. Not hard to believe that Finn had gotten into it with him. A douche is a douche.

"There weren't any punches thrown luckily. Coach Beiste broke it up before it could go there and Finn was threatened with a suspension by Principal Figgin's. Which I'm sure is only Figgin's way of compensating for the fact that he's practically done _nothing_ about what happened with Dave's truck. Trying to make it look like he actually cares by being more strict about any type of harrassment now. Gaga... sometimes I really can't wait to get the hell out of that school."

Sebastian feels it. That feeling again. It's sharp. And reminds him of exactly who is, and exactly who Kurt is. And that their paths were destined to weave in separate directions.

He shakes his head when he hears Kurt make plans to go sit with Finn.

"No."

Both Carole and Kurt look over at him.

"I'll go talk to him. You should just relax for a bit. Plus I think Brittany was waiting for you. Wanted to ask you something about unicorn's or something."

"Um - okay?"

"Don't ask. Just go talk to her. And nod and smile in all the right places. You'll be fine."

With that he bounds up the steps.

He doesn't really know what he's going to say. He didn't make the request to go check in with the dude because he had some life changing advice to give. He just needed to get out of the room, occupy himself with something.

He knocks on the door.

"I'm working on it mom."

He clearly overhears the sound of the video game being shut off, the fast paced shuffling and clicking of plastic against the dresser discouraging all belief that any homework was actually being done.

Sebastian's theory was confirmed the moment he pushes open the door to the sight of Finn hastily parting a chemistry book, not even realizing that it was upside down as he feigns reading it.

"Oh. It's just you."

"Hard at work I see."

"Whatever."

Sebastian takes a seat on the edge of the bed.

"If you were dyslexic, I wouldn't even question it."

"What?"

Seb nods at the book.

"Apparently you've mastered the ability to read backwards. Or upside down rather."

Finn blushes, snapping the book shut and letting it fall to the ground.

"What do you want Sebastian? I honestly don't feel like dealing with your shit at the moment."

"That's pretty harsh man. Especially when I was kind enough to come check on you."

"Well I'm not a baby, so you can drop the act and get out."

Sebastian's eyes narrow, but he doesn't budge. Not in the slightest.

"You have that girlfriend of yours right?"

Finn forgets to look pissed as his features soften, revealing a genuinely curious expression. Truthfully, Sebastian is just as surprised at the words himself. Maybe more so than Gigantor.

"Yeah. Rachel. What about her?"

He clears his throat and decides to just speak honestly.

"Isn't she going away to some school in New York?"

Finn nods in confirmation, his eyes alight with something familiar; something blooming that Sebastian thinks he can understand.

"So, how are you going to deal with it. The distance I mean?"

"Truthfully? I have no idea."

"Aren't you scared she's gonna fuck around with some singing and dancing fuckstick while she's away from you?"

The larger teen huffs, his body looking tense.

"It's crossed my mind."

Seb eyes him incredulously.

"Fine. It's killing me, okay? I hate the idea that I'm going to be away from her. That's she probably gonna meet somebody who's way more talented and so much smarter than I am, and probably fall out of love with me... that I'm just gonna be some burden that's holding her back from something better. Happy?"

"Actually... no."

Finn leans forward, watching Sebastian with an air of someone's who's waiting to be attacked.

"I think I'm in love with your brother."

He waits, wondering if Finn's fist was gonna hurt as much as he suspected based on the size of the thing. When the hit doesn't come, he continues as if on auto-pilot, not even bothering to make eye contact.

"And all I can do is wait around for him to leave me behind. And it hurts."

Both teenagers grow quiet, the silence buzzing as they get lost in their own musings. Suddenly Finn's voice cuts into the atmosphere.

"Nobody makes me happier or feel worth more than Rachel does. It's stupid probably, but even if we have to be thousands of miles away, I still think that feeling, the one we give each other, is worth trying for. That if we hold onto it, maybe we can make it despite everything."

Seb feels his lips twitch into a smile. The disclosure was genuine. It sounded... nice. No matter how fantastical or far fetched. In that moment, it just seemed nice.

Normally he would've scoffed at the notion. Laughed hard at the absurdity of the dude's delusional happy ending bull shit, and taunted the shit out of him until he was writhing with self doubt.

But instead he musters a soft, "yeah... maybe."

Seb considers it a testament to how much he's changed since being introduced to the Princess and his clan.

The fact that he's actually satisfied with that reply, even empathizes with it, screams of how his perspective has been distorted by the tinted rose color of the world's glasses.

He didn't have it in him to burst the kid's dream like a wayward bubble. Mostly because he so desparately wanted to believe it for himself too.

When he has his hand on the door knob ready to pull it open, Finn's voice causes him to pause.

"What I said about Rachel... Kurt feels that way about you. I'm pretty dumb and all, but even I can see that."

Sebastian takes a deep breath, then nods.

"And by brother code or whatever, if he likes it, I love it by default," Finn concludes with a lop sided grin. Sebastian chuckles at that.

"You know, I figured you were flipping out about Karofsky because of feeling bad about what happened between you and Kurt a while ago."

Finn looks sheepish, wary of where Seb was going with this exclamation.

"But now I'm just convinced that you were doing it to defend his honor. Because this has been probably the gayest, most fruity exchange I've ever had with a dude, and I used to fuck guys for a living."

He ducked the pillow that sailed at his head, slamming the door shut and laughing as he descended the staircase. He automatically continues down the other staircase leading to Kurt's room.

He hesitates when he reaches the bottom, leaning against the wall to stay hidden and making a point to listen.

"I don't know," Kurt was saying. "I can't help but feel responsible. Like I was pushing him somehow. And us talking in the bathroom the other day. We shouldn't have been so stupid -"

"C'mon. You don't really believe that do you, Lady lips?"

Silence.

"You're fucking acting like Sebastian right now. I swear he should be fucking Japanese the way he keeps throwing himself on his own sword like a fucking Samurai. Shit gets old after a while."

"Sorry?"

Santana groans in exasperation.

"Christ Lady! It ain't your fault that other people are ignorant and hateful and will do fucked up shit to each other just to prove that they're either, A: just like everybody else and not secretly just as gay and slobbing over twink pics of Justin Bieber or as insecure as a fucking bulemic chick who just binged at a Mickey D's... or B: trying to control other people so they can feel like their dick is the biggest in the playground."

There's the sound of shifting, as if she's moved closer to Kurt on the bed. She presses on, her voice less accusatory, more sympathetic.

"I've dealt with both kinds, Kurt. It just kind of sucks that the worst thing about people, is also the best thing. That they're human."

It becomes quiet again. Sebastian thinks of revealing himself but then halts when another voice drifts into the space.

"Mr. Bear is human."

"Um - sorry Brit, but - Mr. Bear?"

"She means Karofsky," Santana explains patiently.

"Yeah. Mr. Bear was both good and bad. He used to be bad when he would mess with Kurt. When he was scared of being a unicorn. But then when people discovered his horn, he didn't have to be mean anymore. He could be his good self. His true unicorn self. But the other horses are jealous of the unicorn's horn, so they try to cut it off."

Sebastian could've kissed Brittany.

"Honey, you lost me at unicorn," Kurt blurts out.

"That's okay Brit," Santana expressed, a loving lilt to her voice that Seb knows means she's smiling at her. "You're right. It's choices. Those are what make us good or bad people. All of us have the capacity for both, but you choose what to act on."

And once again, Angelo's logic has come back to smack him in the back of the head.

This time, and more mind boggling so, was that it had come from the last person he ever would've thought capable of voicing it. Taking charge of your life, creating your own path. Finn and Rachel... they could make their own path and hope that it's strong enough to weather life's destructive forces.

And if they can do it, why can't he and Kurt?

Instead of taking the last few steps and officially entering the room, he turns away and heads back upstairs.

Something has possessed him. Something that he had been trying so desparately to deny.

When he bursts through the door again, Finn tossing the controller in shock and then scowling over at him upon realizing that he wasn't Carole, he's allowed the thought to develop and consummate.

"I need you to drive me somewhere."

"What, right now?"

"Yeah. Now."

"Are you good at math, dude?"

"I guess."

"It's just that, I sort of remember hearing you saying that you even know some calculus."

Yeah. He knows it. He breezed through the course books actually.

"Uh huh," Seb ventures cautiously.

"Good. Then I drive you, you help me finish my algebra homework."

He thinks of all of the practice textbooks and SAT manuals he's practically memorized over the years. Guess it was finally coming in handy besides serving as a form of escapism.

"Whatever. Fine. But we have to go now."

"Cool. I'll just tell my mom we're going to the store. Work's like a charm when I need to sneak in a quicky with Rachel. I can ask Kurt if we can take his car. He has a better a sound system than my mom's car -"

"Fuck, Gigantor. Just get a set of keys - I don't care who's - and let's go."

Finn frowns at Seb's tone. Sebastian rolls his eyes and then releases a sigh.

"Sorry. But please, can we go?"

"That's all you had to do from the get go - Geez."

* * *

Finn is still rambling on about the difference between fighting games on Xbox versus Playstation when Seb gestures for him to pull over.

"This is it. Right here," he points as the plain, unexceptional building comes into sight.

They pull up in front of his old apartment building. The place that he'd once referred to as home.

It's just as mediocre, and ordinarily commonplace as before. With one very huge exception...

"Dude, did somebody spray paint a - a cross, on the front door?"

Finn had voiced exactly what he'd been thinking.

And there, taking up the entire right side of the double door, was indeed a large cross etched upon the wood in obnoxious green paint.

Sebastian couldn't help it. It seemed to hypnotize him; to drag him forward. Like an invisible rope had lassoed itself around his body and was pulling him toward the symbol forcefully.

Finn calls after him, confused by Seb's actions, but Seb keeps pacing forward until his hand traces over the paint.

He steps back again, looking over it carefully.

It doesn't appear sloppy, or done with ill care. It's surprisingly detailed, the sign of faithful divinity and something that you'd see on top of some ornate Catholic church.

He's pulling the door open and heading up the stairs before before he realizes what he's doing.

After climbing the steps and trekking down the hall, he stops.

The number seven is still askew, dangling to the side as it always had. But otherwise, the door seems virtually untouched, harmless really.

He reaches in his pocket on instinct and pulls out his switch blade, flicking it open with an easy grace. His other hand grabs at the knob and turns.

It's locked.

"Dude."

The knife is held out, wielded and at the ready. The tall figure cries out in shock, holding his hands up in surrender.

"Hey man! Whoa! It's just me, dude. What the hell are you doing?"

"I was just -"

He wasn't sure what to say. Truth was, he wasn't exactly sure what he was doing.

"I don't know."

"So why are we here?"

"I just thought, I was thinking that my brother..."

Finn lowers his hands, his brown eyes growing apprehensive at Sebastian's inability to finish the sentence.

"That your brother what?" he prompts impatiently.

"Nothing. I was just being paranoid probably. He's gone. He's not coming back."

"Okay. Right. So can you put that away now?"

Seb nods, clicking the blade in place and slipping the knife into his pocket. He didn't miss the look of relief that quickly passed over Finn's face as he says evenly, "Good. Now let's get outta here."

"Yeah. Let's - um - let's go."

This was ridiculous. What was he expecting to find here anyway? He's not thinking right. He's definitely giving into some irrational thought patterns due to being desparate regarding Cubby's disappearance. Yeah - he's just not thinking right.

Finn leads the way as they make their way down several flights of stairs and back out onto the street. Finn is already crawling into the driver's side when Seb stops once more to observe the religious symbol flashing brightly on the main door.

He swallows, an eerie feeling creeping over him; an inexplicable sense of foreboding clouding his mind and causing his heart to beat a little bit faster. He shakes it off and ducks back inside of Carole's honda.

As they drive, Finn gripping the steering wheel overzealously with both hands like he's trying to wrestle the damn thing into submission, the taller man casually states one word.

"Milk."

"W-what?"

"We're stopping by the liquor mart on the corner. We need to grab some milk."

"How do you know?"

"Because I dumped the rest of it out before we left."

Sebastian tilts his head, scrutinizing the other teen's face as if waiting for a punch line to somehow emerge through his expression.

"That way mom doesn't start asking questions if we show up with something that we already have at the house."

Finn nods, signalling the end of the discussion. Sebastian readily agrees and leans back in his seat.

He feels pretty sure that he'd punch anybody who had the audacity to ever refer to Finn Hudson as dumb. Even if it's the man himself.

* * *

By Saturday evening, there had still been no word from Dave Karofsky.

Friday had come and gone, and Saturday was quickly diminishing.

Paul Karofsky had stopped by again, this time with several police officers who had taken a statement from both Seb and Kurt.

Sebastian kept looking sideways at Burt during the interview, his anxiety growing at the questions that the two officers were posing.

At some point, Burt stepped in, hastily explaining that Sebastian was a friend of the family and that he was only staying for a few weeks. That seemed to halt the direct inquiries pertaining to where he resided and other more personal questions that he didn't have the answer to.

Mr. Karofsky stayed for another half an hour after the policemen had vacated, both he and Burt talking in hushed tones in the dining area; Mr. Karofsky looking drawn and sleep deprived.

After Mr. Karofsky had finally left, Burt summoned them both to the dining area.

He too looked older, tired.

Burt removed his baseball cap and scratched at his bald head. He nodded for them to take a seat at the dining table across from him.

Seb took Kurt's hand underneath the table.

"Mr. Karofsky - Paul, got a - um, a disturbing phone call this morning."

Sebastian's heart was hammering. He could feel Kurt's pulse point thundering just below his wrist as he gripped Princess' hand tighter.

"He wasn't sure. But it sounded like Dave."

Kurt exhales audibly, his eyes teary.

"But isn't that - isn't that a good thing? We know that he's alive -"

"That's just it. It sounded that way... Paul couldn't tell. All he could hear was screaming and... he just couldn't tell. But it was from Dave's phone. It came up on his caller ID."

The tears that had been gathering, flutter past Kurt's eye lids and travel over his ruddy cheek. Sebastian gives the pale hand a reassuring squeeze, knowing that it won't take away or erase what they just heard.

"He was alive. At least - he was at that moment. But I think that pretty much confirms that where ever he is, he's not alone. And it sounds like it's definitely against his will."

Kurt's breathing is becoming faint. Sebastian is trying to find something to say, anything to diffuse the emptiness that was swallowing them both up.

"The police are going to be interviewing some of those kids who were allegedly involved in wrecking Dave's truck. Hopefully they can come up with something. Maybe get one of them to dime the others out so we can find Dave and make sure the right people are put away."

Sebastian abruptly stands, slamming his hand on the table in anger causing Kurt to startle and Burt's eyes to flicker with sympathy. He was just so fucking sick of everything. The uncertainty... the helplessness... the wrong people getting hurt...

"Now, I know that you guy's are upset by all this. I get it. Hell it's strange to me, given everything that kid put you through Kurt, for any of us to even be sitting here and actually sad and hurt about this whole thing."

Kurt's blank expression immediately clouds over with an unmistakable anger. He was just about to retort, but was cut off by Burt.

"Hold on now. Hold on. I didn't mean it like that. What I meant, was that - all of us - we've all come a long way. You went from being this kid's target to someone important to him. And I'm happy that you were able to take the high road - to be the better man. And that it led to you seeing past your differences and actually being friends. I'm just... I'm really sorry Kurt. I'm sorry about your friend. And I hope to God that the kid is alright."

Sebastian can't help but turn away, his arms crossed over his chest as he turns his back toward them both.

He can't deal with this. Not when his mind keeps toying with the ever present thought of his brother... God, would he even do this? Would he risk everything just to pull such off the wall bull shit?

His inner turmoil is interrupted by the sound of his cell phone ringing.

He turns to look at the pair of men who are watching him with caution, Burt standing over Kurt, putting his hand on his shoulder - not unlike what he had did with Carole the previous night - as a means of comfort.

Sebastian slowly pulls his phone out of his pocket, and breathes a sigh of relief at seeing the name lighting up the cell's screen.

_**Santana**_

"It's just Santana," he clarifies. He walks down the stairs to Kurt's bedroom in order to avoid having to bite back his likely curse filled dialogue. He knows that any time that he speaks with Santana, there's gonna be some raunchy, inappropriate language. Spoken just as naturally as taking a piss. It was inevitable. But he didn't want to be rude or disrespectful. So more often than not, he would dismiss himself to forgo the prospect of being a bad house guest.

"Hey. You guy's on your way back from teenaged purgatory - also known as the mall?"

"Seb... Sebastian, Brit - it's Brit -"

"Whoa, whoa. San, I need you to slow down. Okay? Take a second, breathe, and then talk."

He hears her take a shaky breath before quickly rattling off, "it's Brit, Seb. She's gone."

"W-what? What do you mean?"

"What the fuck do you think I mean?! She's. Gone. As in disappeared. As in not - fucking - here."

"What the hell happened?"

"I don't know! I just - I went to grab a pretzel for her while her and Mercedes stopped by the bathrooms. Brit said that she didn't need to go so she would wait for Mercedes outside the bathroom. When Mercedes came out, Brit was fucking gone."

"You sure she didn't wander off?" he tries.

"You know she wouldn't do that. Ever."

Sebastian grips the phone tighter, wracking his brain for another solution. Because truthfully, he knows that she's right. Brittany would never leave.

She'd been trained too well by Simon.

That, and the fact that Brittany was practically petrified of exposure to too many people and noises which often crippled her natural curiousity to explore any social environment without him or Santana being by her side. She had been traumatized into thinking that if either left her sight for too long, they would leave her behind for good. Like that bastard Uncle who had left her behind years before.

Sex had been the only thing that she learned to cope with alone. But that had a lot to do with the fact that if she didn't force herself to get through it, she would end up with a busted lip. Sometimes much worse by the hand of his brother.

"Okay. Are you guys at the car?"

"Yeah. We're just walking up to it now."

"No sign of her?"

There's no answer, just a jolted gasp.

"San. What's wrong?"

"No. No sign of her. But there's something there. On the car windshield."

Sebastian holds his breath, waiting for her to say something.

"What is it?" he hears Santana ask Mercedes. There's a pause, and a muffled reply that he can't quite make out.

"What did she say? What is it?"

"A card. But there's nothing on it. No name or anything. Just a picture of a green cross."

Sebastian's heart felt like it dropped into his feet.

"Did you say a - a _green_ cross?" he whispers.

"Yeah. It's green. What is this some religious shit or something? What the fuck? People don't even bother to leave their information on business cards anymore?"

He hadn't told her about what he had seen yesterday on their apartment building's front door. He didn't think, or rather, wouldn't let himself believe that it meant anything.

"Go to the apartment. Now. We'll meet you there."

"Seb - what the fuck? -"

"Just go, Santana!"

A resounding _click _echoes in his ear. She's gone.

He bounds back up the stairs, hoping that he doesn't look as shaken as he feels.

"Hey. So that was Santana. She asked if we could meet her up at the mall. Something about helping her with Brittany - maybe she's just getting a little anxious or something. Anyway I figured it'd help us get our mind off things. Distract us for a bit, you know. Would it be okay?"

He doesn't ask Kurt. This question is directed at Burt. It wasn't a _total_ fabrication. So he didn't feel _totally_ bad for it. Just partly. Mostly. But not all.

The other man is standing silently as he eyeball's Sebastian like a man with a thousand reasons why he should say 'no'.

"Don't be late," he finally answers. "Kurt take your phone with you, and you call or text me every half hour. No exceptions."

"Yes, dad."

"You two keep an eye on each other," Burt declares. But Sebastian has a feeling that it was mostly meant for his ears alone.

"We will, Burt. Thanks."

Kurt unplugs the new cell phone he'd received several weeks prior from the charger located near the couch, and quickly slips it into his back pocket.

"I'll drive?" Kurt asks as he removes his keys off the key hanger near the front door.

"Yeah. I need to think," he mumbles in retort.

"We'll be back, dad," Kurt yells out.

"Every half hour Kurt, I mean it."

"Okay. Love you!"

"Ditto, kid. Be careful."

Kurt immediately lays into Sebastian when they make it out the door and are walking toward his Navigator.

"Do you want to tell me what's going on?"

"What?"

"I can see it in your eyes. What's wrong?"

Sebastian is pulling his seatbelt across his chest as he begins to explain.

"Brittany's missing. And I think it has something to do with what I saw the other day."

"What? Wait - I think we should tell my dad -"

"No! No way, Kurt. I'll probably just have you drop me off anyway. Then if you want, by all means, you can tell your dad."

"Drop you off where?"

"The apartment."

Kurt nearly misses a stop sign and hits the brakes hard enough for the fucking seatbelt to pinch uncomfortably against Seb's waist.

"The apartment. As in your brother's apartment?"

"Yeah."

Kurt is drumming his fingers anxiously against the steering wheel looking every bit of mutinous.

"What the hell does Brittany have to do with that place? What do any of you have to do with that place anymore?"

"I don't know. But we need to go there. I know we do. So we can figure it out."

Kurt is still sitting at the stop light, his blues avoiding Sebastian's green as he looks ahead with a cool expression.

"Please," Sebastian breathes.

Princess huffs, and then the car starts to roll forward.

"I'm calling my dad when we get there."

"Fine. Just get me there, Princess."

They drive off, Kurt shaking his head as they speed through the neighborhood and turn toward the main street connecting them to the highway.

Sebastian's heart is ramming against his rib cage like a fucking alien trying to escape and break through his chest plate.

He thinks of that movie Aliens... which makes him think of Brittany again.

* * *

**A/N: **I think this chap has just taken the title as the longest one I've ever written in a multi-chap story. Booyah!

My apologies if anything Santana said was seriously offensive to some folks. It _is_ Santana after all. But both she and I meant no harm. Just part of the story. Also random side note, thank you guys for not giving me shit about my mispellings and grammar mistakes. None of this fic or my other stuff is beta'd... bascially because I'm too impatient. All the mistakes are mine alone and sometimes I'll go back and correct them after the chap's posted. Most times I don't though.

Happy New Year to you all by the way! I was happy to start mine off with a heavy dose of inspiration and a strong commitment to getting some writing knocked out. I may even get another chap up fairly soon. I totally cliff hanger'd you guys in a questionable place. I hope it works to my advantage in keeping you interested. Help me keep my writing spirit agile and determined with some reviews my friends! (:


	22. Chapter 22

**A/N:** This one took a lot out of me. My warnings have been building up to this moment. If you don't do well with death, you might want to skip this one. Otherwise... please be kind.

* * *

He's moving through a thick film, almost dream like in the off-beat, slow pace in which time dispenses.

The haziness feels like an impervious bed of webs netting him, hindering both his body and mind... when they're driving, and even when they finally arrive at their destination.

The fog is still there.

They're already there waiting for them when they pull up.

Santana is sitting on the curb, her hands threaded through her hair, eyes vacant and staring at nothing... Mercedes leaning against the door of her silver subaru with her arms knotted over her chest.

Kurt barely has time to stop before Seb is practically jumping from the car and pushing through that fucking hazy barrier toward the figure sitting in a tight ball on the curb.

For a moment, he's reminded of the twelve year old little girl that he once knew. Smacking her cherry flavored gum and boasting about how she'd mastered the art of loosening a wallet out of a passerby's coat pocket with an ease comparable to swallowing down a slice of cake.

The one that he remembers actually cried.

The one who's dark eyes didn't so easily frost over with distrust; a wall where each brick was made up of hundreds of moments of pain.

There's a moment where that same twelve year old stands up to greet him, and all of the sudden... time seems to speed up.

The sound of his own voice suddenly audible and sharp as he answers the now adult version of the disheveled Latina.

"It's the same right? The sign on that card? It's the same on the door, right?" he's asking.

She hands it over to him as in answer, her hands shaking slightly with the motion.

"It's not just that Seb. I'm fucking freakin' out right now."

Yeah. It was identical.

"There's more, Seb - look. Look at the fucking door!"

His breath catches in his throat when his eyes find the door again. The cross is still there, burdening the right side of the double doors like an ominous presence. But directly next to it, finding a home on the left door was a message, scrawled out in sickeningly impressive penmanship given that it had been produced from spray paint.

Sebastian had to squint in order to ensure that it was in fact paint and not...

"Is that... blood?"

He looks over his shoulder at the look of disgust marring Mercedes' face, distorted with a mixture of revulsion and distress that he hasn't recalled ever gracing her features since he's known her. She had worded his exact thoughts.

He begins reading aloud.

_**And he said to him, "Truly, I say to you -**_

Her voice resurfaces, reciting the last part of the passage like a mantra.

**_-Today you will be with me in Paradise."_**

"Luke 23:43," Mercedes concludes, her voice slightly quavering. "It's a bible verse."

Seb glides his fingers over the letters, examining his fingers carefully. He confirms that it's paint.

"I don't understand why someone would put that on your old apartment door," the light voice remarks quietly from behind Sebastian.

Kurt had joined the small group, peering up at the words with ill disguised trepidation, arms crossed tightly over his dark pea coated torso.

"Paradise... the kingdom of heaven," Mercedes pronounces, as if to herself.

Sebastian doesn't respond.

He doesn't know much about the bible but he knows that this... no - he_ feels_ that this was meant for them.

He looks at the words again, trying to discern an underlying meaning, looking for further clues to help explain something... anything, really. It was taking all of his will power not to submit to the augmenting panic and just crawl into a ball right there on the street corner.

"You guys wait out here. I'm going upstairs."

"No!" Kurt asserts. "No. I don't want you going anywhere near there. It's already bad enough just being in front - or really anywhere near this fucking place. Please don't," he finishes with a soft trill, a pleading note that was actually causing Sebastian to freeze up like a marble sculpture.

But then he thinks of Brittany and he'll be damned if doesn't do everything he can to help her.

He flips out his switch blade.

"Oh hell no white boy! What're you doin'?"

"Going. You three stay put. Keep your phones ready if I take longer than five minutes."

"Sebastian -" Kurt starts.

"Kurt..." he trails off, his eyes emanating a plea of his own; for the other boy to understand...

"Three minutes," Kurt states with hard eyes that do nothing to shield the fear riling beneath.

Sebastian nods, and without another word is crashing past the main doors and bolting up the flights of stairs.

When he reaches the door adorning that tarnished number seven, his eyes fasten onto something else that makes the door unique. Something else that wasn't a regular occurence or necessarily expected.

A white card, sticking out of the crack of the door. His knife is brandished, held out at chest height as he steps over and wrenches the card from the door.

The green cross...

He flips it over and is not entirely surprised to see more words on the back, this time hand written in black ink.

**_Meet me at God's house. Where Luke dwells on green pastures._**

Sebastian reads it over again, trying to make sense of it... 'green pastures?'... 'where Luke dwells?'...

It's as if he's thinking so hard, he can't think at all. The panic is stabbing at his insides, waiting for the opportunity to spill over. He tries the door, but it remains locked.

His phone is ringing. He hears it from the end of some long tunnel in his mind. Seb pulls it out only to see, **_'My Princess'_** labeled within the tiny screen.

"I'm coming down now," he breathes into the phone, then hits the 'end' button before stuffing it back into his pocket. He turns on his heel with the card in hand and races down the steps, practically exploding out the main doors.

"Did you find anything? Is she up there? Where is she Seb?!" Santana rambles hysterically, the unshed tears causing her dark eyes to shine under the glare of the nearby street lamp. The image is disconcerting at best. Seeing her this vulnerable - the girl who never seemed to break - was doing things to his resolve.

"I found this. Maybe she's there. But I - I don't know exactly what it means."

He barely finishes the sentence before the card is yanked from his grip, Santana staring at it with a desparation that rivaled an addict, glaring as if the card would be intimidated enough to suddenly make sense.

"Wha - what the fuck is this? Fucking riddles and shit! where the fuck is she?!"

Mercedes gently grabs hold of Santana's shoulder.

"May I see it?" she utters, a calming intonation delineating each word. Santana is breathing heavily, trying to keep her emotions at bay. She holds out the card and watches as Mercedes carefully looks it over.

"Meet me at God's house. Where Luke dwells on greener pastures," she reads aloud.

"God's house... But isn't that church?" Kurt comments.

"I think so. God's house," Mercedes repeats. "And Luke..." she gasps, her eyes growing large with sudden realization.

"The Catholic church. The one that's been there since the fifties. It's off of St. Luke and Greenbriar. That's gotta be it."

"Okay - we're going!" Santana barks, already making a beeline for Kurt's car.

Seb's mind is racing. He's battling; a war between his instincts and a sense of duty. Between love and foolhardiness...

"We need to go now!" Santana yells just before hopping into the passenger seat.

Kurt and Mercedes were both exuding a keen fear, hesitation and loyalty warring just as heartily within them.

"Listen, Kurt - I hate to do this but we don't have time. We're gonna take your car and you're gonna go with Mercedes -"

"No! I'm not letting you just drive off to some crazy person's idea of a fun house. This isn't something we should deal with on our own -"

"_You're_ not. You're going home. Along with Mercedes. And you're gonna tell your dad what's going on. I'll call you - I'll text or whatever as soon as we get there, but I can't risk you going with me, Kurt. I won't -"

"You forget that _I_ have the keys."

Sebastian hesitates.

"Please don't make me rip them from you by force because I will."

"Like hell you will!" Mercedes counters, standing in between Kurt and Sebastian like an attack dog.

There's a strained silence which is interrupted by Santana's scream from the semi-slitted driver's side window, "hurry the fuck up or I will snatch off your cojones and feed them to you! Idiotas de mierda!"

Kurt huffs, then says, "I'll drive -"

Seb opens his mouth to argue but isn't able to retort before Kurt is saying, "but I won't even come out. I'll stay in the car. Okay?"

Everything is screaming at him to say 'no.' To knock Mercedes over, snatch the keys from Princess and just take off...

"Fine. Let's go."

Kurt manages a small smile before hurrying toward the car.

"Kurt?"

"Mercedes - go to my dad's house. I need you to tell him what's going on. This isn't the kind of thing that makes for an easy phone call. Show him that card."

"Kurt I can't just let you go. I'm coming with you -"

"Please honey. I love you. Please do this for me."

She stares at him, obviously torn, but then mumbles a quick, "okay."

Suddenly her voice seems to regain some of that self assured, diva-ish quality that it normally carried. Like a last ditch effort to transfer Kurt some semblance of strength.

"But you bring your ass back in one piece. Don't do anything stupid. And I'm making sure to tell your daddy _every_thing."

"Okay, love."

"Be careful. And hit me up when you get there. I'll be waiting."

Kurt nods as he slams his door shut, Seb sliding into the back seat as the trio barrels off toward 'God's house', as indicated on that tiny squared messenger: that fucking card that Mercedes was still clinging tightly to as they drove away.

* * *

They're only a few blocks away as noted by the blue bubble that signalled their destination on Kurt's navigation system, when Sebastian instructs Kurt to turn off his headlights.

Thankfully Kurt obliges without question, slowly entering a crawling pace as they creep further along, the draw of the church acting as a physical force beckoning them on.

Seb can see it... the large cross sitting atop the building nearly blocking out the half moon, assuring them that yes - this was indeed it - like a whispering voice, lulling yet devious. He directs Kurt to park half a block down and across the street.

When Sebastian flips open his knife, it's as if the realization of their predicament hones in on Princess; that Seb was going to be walking into some crazed person's implied 'Paradise' with nothing but a knife and his good intentions serving as makeshift armor.

Kurt turns around, bundling a pale hand into Seb's t-shirt, and yanks him roughly forward, crashing their lips together like a storming sea.

Seb pulls away, momentarily captivated by the slightly parted mouth, lips that are swollen with the recent rush of blood coated just underneath the soft flesh. Blue eyes hungry, yet patient... pleading without words for him to cautious, to come back to him.

He's broken out of his spell by the sound of a car door shutting, and the sight of Santana breaking into a purposeful trot across the street.

"Kurt, don't leave this car."

Kurt nods succinctly as Sebastian hurries after the Latina, falling into stride as the church looms ahead. He keeps his eyes narrowed, scrutinizing their surroundings for any sign of ill intent or danger as they make it to the front door.

The air is chilly. The night, silent.

The door is large, ornate carvings of religious relic etched carefully into the dark wood like some medieval treasure. Hell, that's what the whole building felt like... something that had survived an era of the black plague.

The cross looked sort of modernized, baring down on them from what seemed like heaven itself; the edges less floral and stylized then the crosses he's unfortunately been privy to as of late.

He breathes out, his exhale shakier than he'd like to admit, and then pulls the door handle down, a sharp clicking sound answering his silent inquiry about whether it would be unlocked or not.

The space is massive, the ceiling reaching into forever; the stained glass creating picturesque scenes of broken light.

It was surprisingly bright inside. It seemed that someone had left the lights on, the same dark colored wood gleaming off the carefully constructed pews aligning each side of the queue.

His eyes travel up the isles, the red carpet drawing his eyes along like a snare, until they stopped on something that stood in stark contrast to the aged wood.

A single blonde head, visible at a spot that looked to be the very first row of benches.

Santana's gasp and breathy exclamation; the other girl's name leaving her lips like a vow, bring Seb back to reality.

The sudden pounding of feet scrabbling away and up the red path break him from his reverie. He wraps his free hand around her waist and holds her in place, her back pressed forcefully into his front.

"Santana - listen to me. You can't just run up there -"

"What the fuck are you saying? She's right there - we have to get to her. We have to help her -" she bemoans, struggling fiercely against his hold. The tears now freely cascading down her brown toned skin.

"San! Look - look at me!"

She tilts her head upwards, just enough to capture his stern gaze. She looks more broken then he can remember seeing her; her wild thrashing transforming into a defeated slump, her body feeling nearly boneless in his grip as quiet sobs envelope her.

"We're gonna go up there. We're gonna help her. I know it's hard right now. It's hard for me too -"

Sebastian breathes in, hoping that he can stay calm enough for the both of them. Willing himself to remain level headed and to keep the fear at bay long enough to sustain their safety against unknown odds.

He exhales.

"But we have to be smart. We can't just run up there. We don't -" he hesitates, his mind's eye conjuring a picture of a bloody girl, keeled over on the distant bench. He shakes his head to rid the images - "We don't know what could be waiting, and we need to be as ready as we can be. Now I'm going to walk in front, and I need you to stay behind me. And if I say 'run', you do it. But stay - back. Stay back until I say otherwise."

Her dark eyes are still leaking, but something flashes in their depths; a renewed determination that acts as a stimulant propelling her to her feet. The back of her hand rubbing her eyes into redness.

"I'm letting you go now. Stay behind me."

Santana nods and he relinquishes his hold on her. She falls into place behind him as he gradually eases forward.

Every dark crevice feels like a promise of some awaiting danger, his rapidly beating heart just waiting for the moment that it gets stuck through like a kabob, a cackling laugh entering his ears as he bleeds his own red into emptiness on the red carpeting.

But the sudden appearance of some hooded figure wielding a dagger, some sort of revolver, or any lethal weapon doesn't happen. He can feel Santana trembling behind him as the blond head gets closer, until finally they're only mere feet from her.

Seb signals for Santana to wait, and carefully slinks forward as quietly as possible.

"Brittany?" he whispers as he rounds the isle, the familiar face dusted with barely there freckles kissed across pale skin, undeniable and just... there. She was there. It was her.

She doesn't respond. Her head lolled to the side, her body declining into a sunken sitting position, slumped low and still.

"Brittany," he tries again, a little louder than the last time.

He feels his breath hitch when the head slowly turns, the gray orbs tired and red, a glistening path from past tears shining under the lighting.

"Are you real?" she breathes out, her tone monotonous.

He nods frantically, taking another cautious step towards her as he answers.

"Yeah. I'm real, kid. Are you hurt? Did they hurt you?"

She gives a subtle shake of her head in response.

"That's good. That's really good."

His mind was racing, trying to understand... she didn't seem drugged, just exhausted and spent from hours of captivity.

"Brit, can you -"

He was about to ask why she was sitting there as she was, as if debilitated, when a sound that he hadn't noticed before suddenly permeated the air.

He squints curiously, his green orbs grazing over the area where the strange sound seemed to be coming from. His knife held out, he registers that the odd 'beeping' is sounding from the corner; right near the end of the pew, almost directly underneath where the blond was sitting.

Seb carefully closes in on her, catching her eye before he kneels down.

_beep ... beep ... beep ..._

The first thought, the most absurdly comical one likely born from his frantic desire to highlight some normalcy in all of this insanity, is that someone had lost their phone. It was simplistic but logical... a sensible theory true enough. Someone was calling, and the fucking thing was flourishing a stupid, beeping sound that no normal person would ever want as a ring tone for the sheer annoyance of it.

The second, is that the thing that he's staring at, the thing too big to be any kind of phone, with flashing red numbers and some sort of tedious circuitry sticking out the side, was maybe some sort of tracking device marking the location... sending out signals to whoever had set this shit up.

"What is it? Is she okay?"

"San?"

"Yeah, Brit. I'm here. I'm right here, baby."

Brittany makes a move as though she's about to get up, but then a clanking of metal is heard, and she grimaces in pain, the chains that Sebastian miraculously had missed in his haste, keeping her bound and immobile against the bench.

The trail of metal is linked to both of her ankles and knotted securely around the legs of the booth; the legs that have been soldered into the ground.

And that's when he knows what this is. And his heart stops.

Because, no...

It just - it's not that... it can't be...

But the numbers keep flashing, changing rapidly as they retreat in descending order and fuck - he can't breathe.

"San, I want to go home. I want to go back to Kurtie's palace."

"We will babe," and Santana forgoes waiting on Sebastian's word, quickly kneeling next to him and placing her hands on either of Brit's thighs to comfort her.

"Sebastian, what are you doing? Let's get her. Let's get out of here."

And he knew that she could see it in his face, the overwhelming fear rolling off of him in waves as her ranting came to an abrupt halt.

"What's wrong? We need to get the fuck outta here. We need to go before whoever did this comes back? What are you waiting for?"

He shakes his head. He won't say it aloud. He doesn't want to scare Brittany, so he points underneath the bench with a cool glare.

Santana ducks her head.

He counts it. Fourteen seconds...

It takes fourteen seconds for her to figure out what he already had. And he knows that she knows what the situation is the moment when she resurfaces, because her eyes are now mirroring that same fear that his probably are.

Panicky and wild with a grim detachment.

But Santana thrusts out her hand, a burst of conviction burning in her irises.

"Give me your knife."

"Santana -"

"Give me - the fucking - knife!" she snarls. He hands it to her and briefly watches her fruitless attempt to saw at the chains.

He's wracking his brain trying to think of something - anything to be able to break Brittany free from the bench. He stands up, and then goes to the end of the isle, the panic rising with every 'beep' sound that's pushing him into a further tailspin of desperation.

Sebastian grabs the edge of the bench seat and starts to lift upward.

"Aaarrgh!"

Santana's curses flood from underneath the bench, mingling with Seb's animalistic cries as he attempts to pull the bench upward and miraculously separate it from the ground.

But even in the house of God, that kind of miracle proved impossible.

Santana had hacked at the metal, at the impossibly reinforced wood, but nothing mattered. She might has well have been trying to hack at the damn thing with a fucking toothpick.

"It's not giving. Nothing's fucking working!" she screeches.

And they're both tired and scared, Seb having kicked, pulled, and punched to no avail, and her ministrations eventually culminating in her sitting with her head in her hands.

It had only been a few minutes - four to be exact - but it might has well have been hours.

Brittany is crying silently, saddened by Santana's defeated posture and sudden stillness after their flurry of crazed movement and flustered hollering.

"San. It's - it's okay. It's okay that you couldn't cut me loose -"

"No Brittany. No it fucking isn't. You don't fucking get it. You don't understand..." she trails off, her voice overwrought by a choking sob.

Sebastian crawls over to Santana, her emotional state spurring this last bout of insanity induced planning. One final idea that made him sick to his very stomach, but justifiable, as they were running on complete despondency and a miniscule sliver of dying hope.

"San. We don't have to - we can't cut through the chain or any of that. But - there's... other stuff."

He doesn't say the exact words, but she looks up at him through wet eyes, knowing full well his meaning.

"I thought of that," she whispers back, audible enough for only him to hear; a snippet of self loathing underlying the tone for even having thought it. "But it would kill me to hurt her like that. There's no guarantees... the bleeding - plus, the time. There's no time. I just - she like's to dance, you know? I can't take that away from her. It makes her too happy," she breathes with a watery smile tracing her full lips.

He nods because - yeah, he gets it.

He feels like a fucking savage. What the hell had they even been thinking? They couldn't... it was an impossibility that desperation had fueled.

He wonders if that's what the person who had done this to them had planned for... to make them completely lose their minds along with their sense of humanity, and force them to consider options as gruesome as cutting through skin and bone for freedom.

Seb feels himself giving up as he crawls to the opposite end of the pew and kneels down at the end of the isle, his head resting againt the cool surface of the wood. He peers underneath the bench.

The numbers read: 7 mins, 34 secs...

He could try to reach out to Kurt, see if he has any spare tools in his car...

But by the time he made it to the car, and by some blessed intervention found something he could work with, it probably would only give him all of three minutes to actually break through the chain. And unless he had a blow torch, there wasn't any normal car repair tool that would suitably serve his needs.

Seb closes his eyes and thinks of how pissed Kurt will be that he's not coming back. He hopes that he understands...

"Sebastian?"

His eyes flutter open.

"K-Kurt... what the fuck are you doing in here?"

"I know I said that I wouldn't get out of the car, but I - I couldn't help it. You guys were taking a long time and I just - I couldn't help it," he repeats anxiously.

Sebastian couldn't decide if he wanted to kiss him or strangle him where he stood for breaking his promise. At the moment it was a close race between both.

"Kurt, listen to me. You need to get out of here. You need to go. Now."

"No. Not without you guys. I'm not leaving you," he says pointedly, his blue eyes piercing, determined.

"This place - won't be here in the next -" and he ducks under the bench again - "five minutes and ten seconds."

"Wha - what?"

Santana is standing up now, shooting Seb a look of warning, her face now devoid of fresh of tears. She was holding it together, by a thread he knew, but San wanted to keep Brittany from grasping onto what the actual situation was. Kurt was opening and closing his mouth, trying to decipher their communicative looks; to understand Seb's meaning...

"Santana. I - I still want to go. Why can't we go? Maybe we can go get Mr. Burt. He has tools and - and, he can get the chains off. I bet real easy. 'C-cause he's like a lumberjack, right?"

Santana briefly shuts her eyes, biting her lip to hold back the tears that are threatening to overwhelm her again. Her chin quivering with the effort to remain stoic.

"Right?" Brit tries again. Her voice thin and sad.

Santana plasters a broad, yet teary smile on her face as she turns toward the blond.

"Right. But he's so busy. He has to work hard to keep the palace in shape. So we can't bug him. Not this time."

"Oh. Okay."

"Sebastian?"

Sebastian turns toward Kurt, a deadpan expression lingering.

"Kurt, I'm sorry. I can't leave them. But you need to go."

And he can see it then - that Kurt has caught on to what's got them all in this taut state of distress. That he knows what's hiding just out of plain sight under the bench.

"I already said I'm not leaving you!"

"There's no choice, damn it! I'm telling you to go -"

"I'll tell you what you two are gonna do. You're both gonna get the hell out of here and I don't wanna hear shit else about it."

"San -"

"No, Seb. Because that fluttering little fairy with the woman lips isn't going to leave without you. So do us all a favor -"

And here, her feigned bitchy disposition gets lost in a strained sob. But she's sitting with Brittany now, and swallows the emotion down.

"Hell if anything do it because you promised his dad that you would... save the kid's life... you owe Princess, Seb."

Sebastian's heart is breaking under the pressure, ripping in half like an old parchment. The tears that had been stinging his eyes were now crawling down his cheeks as he stared at the woman - the women - that he loved for most of his life and so much more than he ever had himself.

"San, please - I - I can't."

"I won't leave. Not without her. You know that. You knew that the moment you figured out what was underneath this bench."

Kurt is standing at his side, blue eyes spilling tears and pale hand covering his mouth. Seb doesn't look at him, because he won't look away from her.

"But you can't stay. Because you know he won't go otherwise."

"San," Brittany sniffles, her head bowed on Santana's shoulder. "I don't want to die yet," she whimpers.

Kurt cries earnestly then, a broken sob escaping from him and echoing up and through the empty rafters. Sebastian grips his hand, interlocking their fingers.

Santana smiles sweetly, a few tears contradicting the gesture, but beautiful all the same.

"Shh, babe. Shh. It's okay - it's okay. We're not. Because you and I - we're just gonna close our eyes, and when we wake up we'll be in a place so beautiful and full of happiness, it'll be like - like the first day that I saw you. And my heart - it felt like a water balloon - it was so heavy with love for you."

"Or like when we have brinner dates?"

Sebastian is trembling, his hand smarting from the fierce grip that Kurt has on it.

"Or maybe like the times we'd get to dance with each other. Slow and perfect - just us - when nobody else was home. I liked those times more than anything else. Even more than toe socks."

"Yeah, babe. Just like that," and she leans down and brushes a chaste kiss on Brittany's lips in confirmation. She pulls away and smiles, "except we'll be able to dance as long as we want - and nobody can stop us. Close your eyes."

Sebastian looks at Santana, and catches her eye.

He recognized that look. It was the one that spoke to her stubborn nature. The one that meant that she had resigned herself to the circumstance and had already accepted it for what it was. She wouldn't change her mind.

She beckons him over with a nod of the head, and he finds his way there, kneeling closely to her.

"Live, pendejo. Or I'll come back for you."

"Promise?"

"Pinky."

"I love you," he blubbers mournfully.

"I know. But you need to go before the goodbyes ain't necessary."

He nods in numb understanding, and leans over to give Brittany a kiss on each one of her eyelids, the way he used to just before she would go to sleep; her smile stretching at the familiar action.

"Take care of him, Lady lips," she directs at Kurt.

He only manages to nod through the sniffling, looking dangerously faint and close to collapsing.

Santana turns back to Brittany.

"Keep your eyes closed, babe. Do you want me to sing to you?"

"I'd like that."

"Okay. I'll do the one - the one I used to do for my sister whenever she was sad. And I guess it kinda makes sense - fits with the place that we're in right now."

She clears her throat and Kurt is still standing there.

"Kurt?"

He doesn't respond.

"Kurt - we have to go."

He's heaving, trying to quell the sobbing, but rooted to the spot as if he's wearing cement shoes. It's as if he's in shock.

**_Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound._**  
**_That saved a wretch like me..._**

"Kurt we have to go. We can't stay."

_**I once was lost but now am found.**_  
_**Was blind, but now, I see.**_

"Please, Kurt. We need to get to your dad. We need to tell him - tell him that you're okay. C'mon," and he tugs at his hand; Kurt grudgingly responding as Sebastian digs his heels in, forcing Kurt to follow.

**_T'was Grace that taught,_**  
**_my heart to fear..._**

"We have to do something. We can't just leave," the smaller teen rambles in a quiescent tone, still looking shell shocked.

**_And Grace, my fears relieved..._**

"Kurt I'm not losing you, now fucking walk or I swear I'll toss you over my shoulder and drag you out! Now go!" Sebastian roars.

**_How precious did that Grace appear,_**  
**_the hour I first believed._**

Maybe it was the harshness in which he'd spat the threat, or maybe it had been the thought of his father... but whatever it had been, it seemed to have struck something in the pale boy, for he allowed himself to be led forward by the hand, stumbling slightly as he followed.

**_Through many dangers, toils and snares,_**  
**_we have already come..._**

Sebastian took one last look over his shoulder as Santana's voice rung out throughout the space.

They were holding each other, he imagined with both pairs of eyes shut tightly. The steady beeping carrying in the background, a harsh reminder that this was... that this would likely be the last time he'd hear her voice...

**_T'was Grace that brought us safe thus far,_**  
**_and Grace will lead us home._**

They stagger out the front door, Kurt still faltering as they taste the sweet air.

**_The Lord has promised good to me._**  
**_His word my hope secures._**  
**_He will my shield and portion be,_**  
**_as long as life endures._**

They're gait has quickened, a steady pace building as they push through the night, manuevering through the street toward the Navigator.

**_When we've been here ten thousand year,_**  
**_bright shining as the sun._**  
**_We've no less days to sing God's praise,_**  
**_then when we've first begun._**

Princess fumbles with the keys, but then finally flings the door open, both of them jumping inside; both of their gazes trained helplessly on the church up the street.

**_Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound._**  
**_That saved a wretch like me..._**

So many thoughts, everything is spinning and warping through his mind like a fucking vortex. So many images, so many moments... and all he can hear his heart... and all he can feel is Kurt's hand laced with his.

**_I once was lost but now am found._**  
**_Was blind, but now, I see._**

Santana breathes a heavy sigh and then kisses Brittany's forehead, the last note still echoing around them, fading away as the beeping overtakes the silence, speeding up into a chorus of incessant beeps, until it flat lines into a single note.

_beep... beep... beep, beep, beep, beep, be-be-be-be-be-__beeeeeeeeeeeeep..._

"I love you Brit."

"I love you, too."

It's been a little while. Nothing has happened. The building was still there. He and Kurt were still staring at a completely intact structure, where the girls were still alive and well inside its doors. Seb dares to think it. Is happy to at least try...

"Maybe - maybe it was a dud. Maybe it was just some crazy bull shit to try to scare us. Maybe they -"

BAAAHHHHROOOOMM!

He drags Kurt's head down and lays over him as the church disentegrates into fiery debris, the explosion rattling their windows. The reflection of the blaze gleaming against the windshield.

They sit in silence, watching it burn.

The world is gone. His thoughts wiped clean.

He barely registers the sound of ringing. Barely hears the whisper of Kurt's voice - clipped, void, as he speaks into the cell phone with shaking hands...

"D-dad... d-daddy..."

Words. Nonsensical, meaningless... they were meaningless. None of it mattered. Nothing mattered. Because they would still be gone. They would still be dead.

He doesn't know what was said, but he knows that Kurt has stopped talking and his phone has disappeared again. Sebastian reaches out and twists the dial for the stereo, hoping to drown out the silence, the static of white noiselessness.

_This one goes out to the one I love_  
_This one goes out to the one I've left behind_  
_A simple prop to occupy my time_  
_This one goes out to the one I love_

"Seb? Seb -"

_Fire (she's comin' down on her own, now)_  
_Fire (she's comin' down on her own, now)_

"Please, Seb - turn it off."

_This one goes out to the one I love_  
_This one goes out to the one I've left behind_

Kurt's voice is miles away. But the feelings... they're too much. It's all too fucking much...

_A simple prop to occupy my time_  
_This one goes out to the one I love_

"FUCK! Aaaarrrgh! Fuck - fuck - fuck!"

And Sebastian is pounding his fists into the dash board, clawing his hands through his hair as he wails like a man who's just lost his entire world... because that's exactly what he has lost.

Kurt is hiccupping through tearful sobs, trying to touch Sebastian, to comfort him. But Seb is too busy losing himself, bawling and raging, inadvertantly pulling away. He wanted to pull away until he couldn't feel anymore.

* * *

**A/N:** Some of you may have been surprised, others not so much. So we lost both Brit and San (the latter I would imagine being more unexpected). Even writing that right now makes me sad. I may not have done it total justice to how I saw it playing out, but I had always envisioned this scene from the beginning. The image of this scene was vivid and never really faltered for me. I had my doubts of going through with it, but in the end I knew that I had to stay true to my original vision.

I wasn't kidding when I said it took a lot out of me. Not just the actual writing but the loss. It was actually sad for me as well and I'm feeling kind of drained. I'm sure there are questions. Feel free to send them my way. But I think more will be revealed as we go along. Like for example who was responsible and why it was done. Much love to you guys! And please do me a solid and spare me any flames or rants just to complain about them dying. I know it sucks. But the show must go on. There's still more to go and I need to replenish before the next round so it might be a little while before the next chap. Shout out to **REM** for my use of their song, _**This One Goes Out to the One I Love**. _Brilliant tune that I thought sort of just... went.


	23. Chapter 23

It's quiet.

Everywhere is quiet.

Except for his mind. It won't leave him alone.

It won't stop ushering forth images that clamor like a fucking subway station; deafening and acutely overbearing.

His psyche is bleeding with thoughts of them. The last few seconds of her rapturous voice funneling into his very soul; hooking like a fishing line past the surface of skin and sinew of muscle... into his heart. Pulling against it and shredding it as he forced himself to trudge forward and out the door, until the line broke cleanly in half.

Broken by the crisp air, and the freedom, and the promises of life that they would no longer ever know about.

Brittany's soft smile that she flashed on moderate occasion; but so full of innocence and a quiet strength that reached into some other world. An imaginary environment of unicorn's and rainbows arching between cotton clouds that he couldn't ever see...

And Santana's x-ray look that always delved past the blockade's he'd try to set. The one that equalled inevitable understanding without ever having said a word...

Their nights of nursing physical and emotional wounds, whispering reassurance, promising each other that it would get better...

It was gone. This - those images, was everything now. All he had left.

He wanted to die with them. As he lays alone in the darkness of Kurt's bedroom, he knows that he should've died with them.

* * *

He feels the tentative touch; a hand maybe, that's touching on someone's body that can't be his own; can't belong to him. Because he can't truly feel the touch he knows is there.

He was on the bed when it ghosted his shoulder he thinks. But then the pressure recedes, and the only breathing in the room is his own again. He resumes hating every piece of himself; cursing the body that just can't seem to feel.

* * *

It burst out of him. The rage. The wrath. It exploded again. Just like that fucking church.

He didn't know until he was throwing things, breaking things, the words tearing out of his throat almost as if in competition with his tears.

He ended it, much like he'd began it: in a tight ball on the cool floor of the basement.

He ignored the voice that broke into the dead air, quivering and pleading: the voice that was familiar to him; that had once even managed to wipe away the black smudging his heart.

He even ignored the other voice that was deeper, stern and forward, but still laced with undeserving sympathy.

Both had tried talking to him, saying words that were jibberish at best. Both failed, deciding it best to retreat back into the world above the stairs.

* * *

He thought that no one had heard him.

Sebastian had once prided himself on his ability to be inconspicuous.

But there they were: those blue eyes that still brushed a fire underneath his being, staring at him with every note of emotional build that brightened them beyond what the moonlight could manage. It was a light produced internally.

"How long have you been out here?" The other man asks, closing the door swiftly as he climbs inside.

"I don't know," he croaks in response.

It's the first words he's spoken since he'd isolated himself; his voice harsh and raspy from the combination of misuse and his earlier tirade.

The other boy say's nothing. But here they were, inside of his car, Sebastian leaning against the glass of the passenger side door, and Princess watching the street from his place in the driver's seat.

Sebastian notices then. Kurt wasn't wearing his usual silk pajama set. He was adorning a too big t-shirt, the hole allotted for the head slipping past his shoulder, exposing pale skin. The shirt had a Nascar logo on it that had obviously been washed into near non-existence. Seb looks down to see toned thighs leaking from dark boxer shorts.

Seb had never even bothered to change. He was still in his clothes from before, still wrapped up in his hooded jacket. Still... fuck... there, in his mind. The smell of polished wood, and faint traces of a mingled aroma from hundreds of bodies coming and going, seeking God's truth while sporting their favorite store bought fragrances...

The sight of burning flame chewing up the church walls like paper. The heat somehow reaching them from yards away; the once impressive cross, now aflame and crushed into mere match sticks...

"You've gotta be cold," Seb comments.

"Freezing actually. But I'll deal with it."

He'll deal with it. His choice of word's causes Seb to bristle. Dealing with anything at the moment felt like an impossible prospect.

"You should go in. So you're not cold."

"I'm fine."

They fall into silence again. Kurt just... sitting. His own quiet refusal to leave, but an obvious refusal none the less.

Seb didn't have it in him to tell him otherwise. Not now anyway. And then, after the moment stretches into a feeling of timelessness, words somehow filter through his lips.

"I wanted to go back. Like if I - if I could just sit here long enough... somehow I could go back. Like it never happened."

He shifts, his forehead sliding against the cool glass as he continues staring off into the night where indistinct shapes making up the neighbor's shrubbery reminds him of claws, gnarled and twisted, trying to reach out and take him.

"I just want to sit here until I can hear them again. See Brittany - laughing, trying to teach me how to do a stupid cartwheel or some other random thing she considered an important life skill... and San, calling me a twinky under her breath after making sure I had a plate of left over's if I got home late."

He laughs bitterly; without any trace of humor.

"She never made fun of me, you know. About my nose being buried in so many books. I mean she made fun of me for a lot of shit don't get me wrong. But never that. Not once."

Kurt remains quiet. Sebastian doesn't. He allows the verbalization to emerge and trickle out into the space between them, filling up the car like the warmth that wasn't physically present.

"I don't know what to do - except, sit here... just sit here. That's what makes sense. The only thing. Because when I'm in here - they're still out there. Happy and alive, and waiting for me to get them out of that fucking church."

He's not crying. There aren't any tears left in him for that. But if he did, he was sure his face would be wet with them at this moment.

Seb completely pulls away from the glass of the passenger side window, finally letting his eyes linger on his counterpart for longer than a few painful seconds.

He nearly winces at Princess' attempt to be poised, to pretend that he was wasn't shivering in a slightly violent manner, or breathing out air cold enough to literally be visible even within the confines of the Navigator.

The temperature had dropped pretty low the last hour or so. He hadn't noticed himself, because he had been too disconnected from the literal, trapped within his mind. But Kurt was there, sitting with him, shaking and trying to fight through the cold in nothing but a t-shirt that clearly belonged to the eldest Hummel, his thin boxers clinging tightly to pale legs, and no other articles. Not even shoes to deter the bite.

Seb reaches out without thinking, and brushes the back of his hand against Kurt's cheek, causing the other boy to finally turn and meet his gaze.

"You need to be inside Princess. Your skin's like ice."

For a second, Kurt closes his eyes, as if savoring the sound of the name that he once claimed to loathe. The smile is barely there, but it's there. Seb continues.

"That moment... you weren't supposed to be in the car, Kurt -"

"B-but I - I was. A-and I am now."

Kurt's hand finds its way to Seb's, stroking over the back with trembling fingers and then seems to receive the permission he'd been searching for when Sebastian doesn't pull away, twining their hand's together between them.

"I don't know w-why you don't seem to g-get that... I'm with you," he stuttered through chattering teeth. "W-where ever and whatever. B-but I'm here."

Sebastian is observing their locked fingers, the blotched pink suffused with pale patches and lines of porcelain.

"I'm with you. Okay?"

He feels himself nodding, feels the tears he thought had depleted entirely, warming behind his orbs.

Seb leans over, settling his head on Kurt's shoulder as the other boy kisses his hair, and wraps his arms around him soundly.

They stay like that; wrapped up in each other.

They stay until Seb can feel Kurt's body quaking and the urge to take it away, to relinquish the shivering and to simply just... feel, overwhelms him.

He presses a kiss to the pale neck, tracing his tongue over the fair skin until his lips latch softly to a hairless jawline.

They meet eyes, Seb waiting for any sign of reception to continue, which Kurt easily gives, his blue eyes drifting closed in tandem with his lips coming forth and capturing Sebastian's.

It felt like breathing again; kissing Kurt.

It was like swallowing clean air after spending years in a dank basement, tented in thick dust and unimaginable foulness.

He was on his back, running his hands over Kurt's body; along lean back muscles and then cupping, squeezing the mounds of his ass which resulted in Kurt rutting against him, moaning until it hissed into the sound of his name.

Princess nearly had him pinned down, kissing him hard, nipping his lips and dragging his tongue over Seb's neck until it ended in meeting his lips again.

Kurt's movements were feverish, almost possessive.

Seb could feel his own hardness meeting in a solid dance of friction with Kurt's. Both set's of moans wafting between them, a shield settling over their now writhing bodies.

By the time Kurt had come up for air, the steam had submersed the windows. Their own warmth fending off the chill that had once enveloped the tight space.

Kurt was looking down at him, breathing heavily, lethargic with an aura of lust and need and... something else, he's not sure of... or maybe just can't believe.

He pulls away, still piercing Seb with that look, and reaches behind himself for the door.

The cold air doesn't douse that look, doesn't peel away at the feeling beckoning him to follow the pale teen when he exits the car, and reaches out his hand for Seb to take.

Sebastian hesitates, the fury of so many emotions fighting within him, but then he slides the keys from the top of the dashboard, and pockets them. The urge to sit, or to leave and save this family from his ever toxic presence even, no longer coursing through him.

He let's himself be pulled along until they're inside the house, Kurt only pausing to quietly relock the front door.

Carole was at work still. Burt and Finn enclosed upstairs in their respective rooms, likely engaged in a fitful sleep, chasing away the surreal thoughts of this horrible night behind closed eyes.

He gently replaces the keys on the key hook, and can only seem to feel Kurt as they traipse steathily through the house, disappearing behind Kurt's bedroom door.

Seb is lying on the bed, his thoughts threatening to return to that place of infinite self doubt and pain. But then Kurt re-emerges after the clicking of the door sounds above; the lock having been turned and set leaving them utterly alone, maybe for the first time since Sebastian's been residing here.

Kurt pauses when he reaches the foot of the stairs, his eye's trailing slowly over Sebastian, halting once they reach green.

That look; it's so loud, it's almost screaming.

When Princess leans over him, it isn't screaming anymore. It's not even pleading. The look is clear, discernible... brandishing a tenderness that has resolved somewhere in between a scream and whisper. It spoke easily of love.

The kiss is soft, not probing, not needy. It's subtle and calming, but somehow overpowering to his senses.

The taste of Kurt's lips is intoxicating, making him heady with a simmering desire.

There's no sense of urgency; no ripping off of their clothes or feverish groping. It's tentative, gentle: Kurt lying next to Seb, running his pale hand over his clothed chest. Sebastian's own hand binded to Kurt's neck, fingers feathering through the base of soft, brunette hair.

Kurt kisses over lips, then the tip of Sebastian's nose, then leaves a lingering peck against his forehead, where he then rests his forehead against Seb's; drinking in the dilation of his pupil's drowned in a yielding green.

He breathes out, exhaling shakily, then captures Seb's lips in a chaste kiss before pulling away.

Before Sebastian can question the action, say anything, his heart hammers him into silence; the distinct sound of Princess' bedside drawer being pulled open, and the slight clunking and clattering of objects causing him to suck in a breath.

The sound that he's heard so many times over the years; the unmistakable crinkling that always promised an invasion of his flesh, makes his pulse thrum and his mouth go dry.

He opens his mouth to protest, to declare that this shouldn't happen for multiple reasons... but it dies on his tongue when he feels another tongue brush against his.

Seb kisses back roughly, and then pulls away, looking down at the items clutched too tightly in a perfect, pale hand: a condom and a small blue bottle that was still brimming with liquid.

He remembers Kurt's recollection of having 'the talk' with his dad; that it had ended with a goody bag full of embarrassingly detailed pamphlets, condoms, and lube. Items he couldn't imagine Kurt ever buying for use himself.

Just underneath the surface of his determination, Seb could sense the other man's nerves. Kurt was anxious, a little scared maybe.

"Kurt -"

A finger touches his lips, cutting off his exclamation.

"Please," is all Kurt says in response. A mere whisper that engulfs him.

And nothing matters then.

They become lost in their kissing, and slowly Kurt's too large t-shirt is lifted and strewn, along with Sebastian's layers until he's also clad in nothing but dark-blue boxer briefs.

Their bodies are pressed together tightly, the steady friction rendering them both hard and aching, as they moan and thrust as if they had limitless time to do so.

He's never had this before. Not with anyone. Not out of dozens upon dozens of people.

No one had ever kissed him so deeply; had touched him with so much devotion and care. Like every caress meant world's and then some.

He'd been ravished... countless times. But never lavished. Never made to feel equal.

When Sebastian begins to trail kisses over Kurt's pert nipples, suckling them until Kurt is mewling and keening, he knows that he needs to taste the other man.

He licks down the smooth skin, over the flat stomach and pauses in order to ask permission with his look.

Kurt shakes his head, a smile playing behind his eyes as he pulls Sebastian back to him, kissing him thoroughly before switching positions.

Princess worries the bud of his nipples with his teeth, runs his tongue carefully along an invisible path until he reaches the dark blue of Seb's briefs.

Seb was going to mirror Kurt's reaction from before; gently tell him that it wasn't necessary, and that he didn't have on a condom anyway...

But the teen had already dragged Seb's brief's down past his hips, Seb's hard member now being swiped with a tentative tongue.

"Ughn," he growls out. Fuck. He was struggling, trying to find the words...

"K-Kurt, the - the condom."

Kurt had just started to mouth the head, kissing it with painstaking attention, his hand gripping the base as he grazed over the flesh with a more assured tongue.

"I want to taste you. All of you. Please."

Their eyes lock again.

Kurt was waiting for him to oblige. Seb's logic, though barely present at the moment, worked hard to decipher that Kurt had basically given him permission to empty himself. To spill himself into that cavernous space behind pink tinged lips.

Princess' eyes spoke volumes. He didn't care about Sebastian's past. Right now, none of that other life had ever existed.

It was just them two.

And he found himself nodding, and Kurt's lips sliding over his cock.

He was clean. He had been to the free clinic regularly, the place - unlike an actual physician which was always avoided - where they never asked questions, and didn't think twice about alias'. Plus he'd always used condom's with his John's. But Kurt... fuck all, he didn't even bat an eyelash. The unspoken trust warming Sebastian beyond being sexually or physically sated.

And he knew that it wasn't a first timer's naivity, or being too caught up with one's sexual urge... it was the complexity of wanting to symbolize through an act, what they had been feeling. Trust, adoration, love...

Kurt could be practically OCD some times; frequently obtuse regarding certain things such as maintaining an impeccable image with every strand of hair perched in a flawless coif, or what low carb, low fat something or other that he decided to eat that day.

He had even confessed warranting his perfect, 'first time' scenario as being with that guy who played the werewolf on that Twilight movie: Taylor... whatever, making love on a, 'meadow of dewy lilac'. Some picturesque scene worthy of a sappy romance novel.

But not now.

Because it was just them two. And their version of perfect was simply being with each other... sweating, panting, uncertain, but _so_ certain at the same time.

And Sebastian was combing his fingers through Kurt's normally perfect locks, and nearly rolling his eyes in the back of his head at the sight of Kurt's red splotched cheek's hollowing as he hummed over Seb's shaft with a slow building bobbing motion.

Seb was close.

But he didn't want it that way. He wanted Kurt to feel this with him.

"Kurt."

Blue shifted, and caught green in question.

"Come here," he breathes.

Kurt's mouth slips off of Seb.

"Did I - "

"No."

Kurt's apprehension, no doubt about his abilities and inexperience, immediately disperses upon the look of need emanating from Sebastian. Princess understands without the need for words.

Sebastian pulls Kurt to him, kissing him fiercely in hopes of melting any remnants of self doubt that may have been lingering.

They kiss slow then, and Kurt eases out of his boxers.

Seb watches him, takes his time as he coats his fingers with the lubricant in the blue bottle.

As he leans over Kurt, finger gently caressing the puckered skin of his entrance, Kurt nods in permission; his eyes alight with a mixture of want and anxiousness.

Sebastian pushes into him. Kurt's eye's flicker shut as he braces himself; a moan siphoning at the pressure. They open again, slowly, and Seb watch's him, waiting.

Kurt whispers, "please," and Seb gently plunge's further, and pulls out. He continues the motion, steady and careful.

Princess pulls him down, capturing his lips heatedly.

"Mm, p-please. More."

Another slickened finger pushes through the ring of muscle, stretching the tight channel. Sebastian experimentally increases the speed, crooking the appendage until he brushes against a spot that has Kurt writhing.

The third finger causes Kurt to tense, hissing out, which results in Seb pausing in caution.

Kurt shake's his head, his eye's bright with moisture. Princess' hand cup's Seb's cheek, tracing over his lips and then gliding down until it's resting over Sebastian's heart, fingers splayed softly over the toned chest.

Sebastian understands, and begins the same steady motion, opening him with certain strokes.

Kurt is slowly unraveling beneath him, rocking his hips in time with each exploit of Seb's fingers.

"Please, Seb. I - I need you."

Princess' voice is breathy, wanton... a mingled sound of need and emotion that both enthrall's and terrifies him.

Sebastian feel's his heart clench when he notices the tears leaking, and rolling down the sides of Kurt's porcelain cheeks. He kisses over the trails, ending with a hard kiss on swollen lips.

He exhales, feeling his own nerves amplifying, swallowing down the concern at what this moment would mean.

Kurt seems to sense his affect, and brings him down for a deep kiss; a gesture of reassurance that this was indeed what he wanted... what they both needed.

Seb can't remember the last time that the prospect of sex ever made him nervous. Years at least. But this wasn't that... was it? This was something so much more.

He nods, and makes quick work of removing the condom sitting precariously on the bedside table, and rolls it over himself. After coating his pulsing member with a copious amount of lube, he lines himself against Kurt's opening.

As he pushes through the tightness, penetrating his Princess with a careful, vigilant motion, he can't help but lean down and capture the lips again; letting himself get lost in the kiss as he begins to thrust steadily.

Bliss...

He couldn't register anything but that.

This was making love. And he was making love with Kurt.

Kurt's moan's were spurning him forward, causing him to snap his hips with a quickening pace. Princess' legs had wrapped deftly around Seb's waist, locking at the ankle as he plunged into him; their hands roaming, mouths tasting.

He wasn't going to last. Not with this feeling overwhelming him. Not with the perfection of Kurt pressed underneath him.

"Oh, Seb - please - fuck!"

The orgasm shot through Sebastian, burning his insides as he came, blubbering Kurt's name like a dying man; like it was a mantra that was keeping him alive.

He was barely able to manage grappling Kurt's pink tinged cock, stroking it until Kurt was spurting his seed onto his own stomach, crying out as he slowly rolled his hips through the spasms.

Both men are panting, slick with sweat and heart's pulsating. Kurt smiles up at him and Seb answers with a lingering, sweet kiss.

Eventually Sebastian's able to tie up the condom and toss it into the trash can. He then grab's his undershirt that he'd thrown to the side, and uses it to mop up the cum from Kurt's stomach before again releaving it on the floor.

He pulls Kurt to him, wrapping his arm around him, as Kurt lays across his chest, his mussed brunette strands tickling against Seb's neck.

For now, in this moment, there had been no church.

There had been no crosses baring the promise of death... they were still alive, and he was still happy.

As long as he could breathe in the scent of Kurt, linger in his touch and get lost in the feel of him... as long as he could look over and depart into that pearly blue, wrap himself in soft lines and opaline skin...

There was no loss. And they were still with him.

His mind wanders to Burt. Thinking of what he had sort of promised him regarding being physical with Kurt.

Then he quickly shirks the thought, because Seb was an expected disappointment anyway.

He thinks of what was said before - only a few hours ago probably now. He thinks of what the man could possibly be thinking or planning to do now...

_"What do you mean they aren't coming back?"_

_Both of them had burst through the door just as Burt Hummel was getting his key's, Finn pulling on his letterman's jacket at his heels._

_They falter, each looking at anything other than the man standing before them, or each other._

_"Somebody better talk to me! Mercedes practically barrels my front door down talkin' some craziness about a church and crosses and Brittany maybe being there -"_

_Seb feels his heart clench at the name._

_"And she gave me some weird card with some crap on the back about green pastures and it took me a half hour just to get her to calm down and go home. Now somebody better start talkin'. Now where the hell are the girls?!"_

_Kurt is crying silently now, Burt looking baffled at the reaction. Sebastian coolly repeats himself._

_"They. Aren't. Coming. Back."_

_"W-what do you mean? Did they get lost at the mall, or like - run away or something?" Finn blusters naively, looking perplexed and a tad trepidatious._

_Seb shakes his head. If only that were the truth of it. Burt is obviously losing his patience with the ambiguity of Sebastian's proclamation._

_"Where are the girls?!"_

_"They're dead, okay?! They're fucking dead and they aren't coming back!" Seb bellows, the tears flowing in quick streams down his flushed cheeks._

_Finn and Burt exchange disbelieving looks, clearly shocked by the combination of both Seb's hostile reaction, and the inconceivable word's expressed._

_"T-they're... they're d-dead," he repeats in a defeated tone._

_Burt looks over at Kurt; looking for some sort of affirmation from his own son._

_"Kurt?"_

_But Kurt is now collapsing on the staircase, covering his face in his hand's as the reality of the recent event settles over him like a dark cloak, draped over his shoulders and spreading across the floor and into the atmosphere like a vapor of melancholy._

_Burt kneel's next to Kurt's side, wrapping his arm around his shoulder's. Kurt buries himself in his father's chest, Burt shushing him and whispering any words he could muster in attempt to repress his kid's despair._

_Finn's chocolate eye's are wide with fear and astonishment as he looks from the men comforting each other on the staircase, back to Sebastian; the question still there, powered by certain implausibility - that it just couldn't be._

_Seb simply nod's his head. A final gesture to confirm that the word's were nothing but true. Finn gasps, his mouth gaping as he tries to find his own word's to combat the information._

_"T-they can't - no. No, dude. That's not possible. I mean - they were just here and - and, they're not... it's not true."_

_Sebastian can't look at any of them anymore. It hurt too much. Everything hurt too much._

_Burt was focusing on Kurt, but eventually his eyes drift back over to Seb, looking for some concrete answers that Sebastian just didn't know how to vocalize._

_"I - I can't." He shakes his head, looking away at the burning sensation Burt's gaze was causing._

_"I can't," and he stalks away, disappearing down into Kurt's room..._

Kurt hadn't told Burt what had happened.

He know's that, because the minute that it would've been disclosed, the police would've been swarming. Their house bathed in madness, chaos, and persistant questioning.

Carole was still at work, perhaps still blissfully unaware. He honestly wasn't sure if Burt had contacted her or not.

He thinks that maybe Burt had held off on pushing anything after witnessing his son breaking in front of him. But it was only a matter of time. He knew by morning they couldn't hide behind their distress. And they would have to explain in detail, probably multiple times what had occurred. That whatever little dysfunctional little family they had started to grow into, had been completely obliterated as of tonight. And the flash of silver badges, intimidating jargon, and implied threats over Sebastian's history... so many questions and 'why's' and 'what were you thinking's' will lead to the inevitable path of Seb disappearing from the Hudmel's lives... probably for good.

Seb looks over at Kurt. His blue eyes shut, and his breathing even. He snuggles into him, holding him more tightly.

This moment should've been the happiest of his life.

Instead, it was quickly becoming the saddest, drenched in the knowledge that the girls were lost to him; that this gorgeous man was really all he had left.

And fuck... look at all of the fucking absolute pain in just the course of a few month's that he'd brought down upon him. Princess never asked for any of this. He didn't deserve it.

He was brought out of his building self hatred by the rumbling sound he knew signalled his phone; that he'd received a text message.

Seb quietly slips from under Kurt, successfully avoiding waking him, and leans down to rummage through his jeans.

He pulls out his cell and stares down at it.

_**I have a present for you. Meet me alone at the place where time stops. - Cubby**_

The blood in his veins freezes over as he blinked down at the words corralled in the call screen.

He knew exactly who it was behind the message. It was from Dave's phone, sure enough. But those words... they only belonged to one man. And it wasn't Dave.

He exhales, and shakily stands to his feet.

Kurt's form is swathed in the sheets, oblivious and beautiful. He took several moments to drink in the sight, before quietly pulling on his clothing.

He pauses at the foot of the steps, looking back, one last tug of indecision causing him to remain at a standstill.

"I'm sorry, Kurt," he whispers. He then makes his way up the steps, knowing in his heart that it would likely be for the last time.

* * *

**A/N: **So... I 've replenished. Also, I promise that the smut wasn't just some random attempt to appease you all after the sadness of Brit and San's death. This was another thing that I'd always pictured happening. A very sad surrender to needing comfort, but still finding flit's of love and happiness in the act before Seb comes crashing back to reality. Also, yes - I could've put a warning at the beginning regarding the smut, but - eh - why? Smut is awesome. And I like it especially when it may not be expected.

Just to clarify this is all happening the same night/morning of their murder. I struggled for a while with having more time go by but then I knew there would inevitably be police involvement and I'm not ready for all of that quite yet. I like the idea of them still sort of being alone in this whole crazy charade. Because we all know that Burt would've probably charged off to the cops or went to the church himself like a loose cannon (hence me choosing to have Kurt tell him - but not _really _tell him what happened... he just knows his son is completely distraught, Seb is shell shocked, and the girls are gone, probably best to leave it till morning when they're calmer and not spouting jibberish that can't be true - right?). Right... So as always, please be so kind (as you guys always are - and a side note: thanks from the depths of my withered, little ol' heart) to leave me your thoughts. Much love!


	24. Chapter 24

**A/N:** I know... I know, I know. I've been on hiatus for a quite a while. I'm sorry for my lengthy disappearance and lack of an update during said hiatus. Life's been pretty crazy and very time consuming lately. Sucking me and my creativity dry. But I'm happy to say that I finally found time to get this chap up. **Warning**, the darkness (gratuitous violence, death, etc) continues and really comes full circle in this chap. All the questions you may have had, will be answered here. Climax time... in a definitely un-sexy way.

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He tried to forget, mostly successfully, that he had taken Kurt's car.

In the end, it was the mode of transport that would allow him to leave everything behind; to take him out of their lives. Like the scissors that cut a face from an old photograph, so that the remaining occupants in the picture could reassemble and find beauty again.

He was doing them a favor, so it was justifiable.

He barely remembers the drive. He only thinks of what's waiting for him.

The door still held that fucking message; each red letter like a scar, cutting deep into his psyche... the cross just as bold, reminding him of too familiar flames.

He trailed past it, up the various flights of stairs until he was pushing through the gray door edged in old rust.

His knife was in his pocket, chipped and jagged from its recent escapade against unyielding metal, but present, lingering for use.

It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust, but then he glimpses a figure, a shadow really, that moves upon hearing the metal door click shut.

His heart beat intensifies, his breathing almost ragged as he waits.

Another shadow is hunched over on the floor, but he can't quite make it out with the limited lighting; the only illumination coming from the small light above the door, the street lights below, and the moon overhead.

"Happy you could join us."

"Cut the shit. Is he alive?"

"You haven't seen me in weeks, and that's how you greet your big brother? I thought I taught you better than that."

"Is. He. Alive?" he hisses slowly, with barely there restraint.

Simon's sneer lengthens as he steps more fully into the light; the cigarette pinched between the taut lines of his mouth, billowing a trail of smoke. He chuckles darkly, and flicks the butt away.

"I did say I had a gift, right?"

He puncuates the exclamation by kicking at the figure huddled on the floor, which makes a muffled groaning sound as the person rolls forward, the features coming into visible relief.

"Wha - where's Dave?"

"We'll get to that. But first, I wanted to re-introduce you to this cheeky little bastard."

There was a line of blood trickling down from mussed, brunette locks, ivory skin shining with sweat that rolled in droplets over the thick duct tape covering his mouth. His face was puffy, the evidence of a blooming shiner purpling over fair flesh. He remembers those eyes, a green that burned with a sickly yearning to devastate...

"Seb, this is Rory. Rory, my little bro, Seb."

Rory. The Irishman who had assaulted him a while back. The one who had been looking for his brother, in accompaniment with that elder Irishman with the rough, olive skin and cold disposition.

"Ah, c'mon now Rory boy - it's rude not to greet some one when being introduced," and Simon swiftly aimed another kick to the man's diaphram causing him to buckle forward, a strained choke being barricaded by the gray tape. Simon rips the tape away in one fell swoop, and grabs the guy by the scruff of his dark winter coat.

"This is Seb. The one you ran into some time ago, and left a pretty impressionable message with."

Simon strikes the dude in the face, a close fisted blow that likely had the fucker's head spinning.

Rory, spits out a mouthful of blood, then laughs defiantly, the awkward smile tainted as he flashed red coated teeth.

"Fuck you, ya bent bastard!"

Another well aimed punch to the face.

"No -" a punch rattling his jaw - "fuck -" a kick to the torso - "you!" another kick, the impact causing Rory to roll over onto his back, coughing and helplessly restrained, his hands apparently zip-tied behind his back.

"I want you to tell him, Rory. I want you to fuckin' tell Seb here, what you and your fuckin' butt buddy did."

Rory remained stoic, attempting to shift back upright.

"I thought it might come to this," Simon continues. "No problem. I'll open the dialogue and you can finish it." Simon pauses, a dramatic gesture meant to heighten the tension. "I know what happened to the girls tonight Seb."

"Yeah - you!" Seb snarled.

Simon laughs, a low grumbling sound echoing across the roof plain.

"My acqaintanceship with this little rat fuck, ain't a coincidence. Neither is the fact that I have him here with us right now. Neither is the fact that I also have..." he trails off as he ducks down and pulls up a dark plastic bag, the bag crinkling and swishing audibly as he tosses it over to Seb in a graceful motion.

"... his friend with us too - in one way or another," he finishes crudely.

The bag falls away, leaving a slight opening, the object inside the weight and shape of an ill-formed watermelon.

His green eyes widen at the realization of what he's holding.

"Fuck!"

The other one... the elder Irishman, or rather his severed head, his dark eyes dulled and bloodshot, mouth agape and hair crusting with dried blood. He drops the man - the head rather - like it had electrocuted him, and steps away from it.

Simon's cruel chuckling interrupts his crazed disbelief; brings him back from the surreal world he'd just been handling some fucker's head in.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Seb whispers out, unable to find any other words. No other exclamation seemed right, or strong enough to push past the lump clogging his throat.

Rory is breathing heavily now, panting with what appeared to be mingled disdain, grief, and helplessness.

"You're gonna fuckin' pay for this Simon. Ya know that they won't let ya get away with this shit!" Rory bellows wildly, a strand of spit trailing over his lips.

"I think this might be the part where you chime in little Rory. I'm sure Sebastian is more than curious why you're here, and why I happen to have your associate's _head_ in a plastic bag."

Rory's still panting, his eyes darkening as a slow forming sneer replaces his look of indignation.

"We've been lookin' for him for a long time. Since before I joined the clan. Your brother's nothin' but a fuckin' spineless thief. Who pissed all the wrong people off."

Rory is looking directly at Sebastian now, his eyes searing as he hastens on.

"He ran... for years, he was on the run. Hell before I even joined really. 'Till we finally pin-pointed the prick, here. The day we saw ya, me and Aidan - the bloke who's head you just dropped on the ground like a fuckin' used diaper - we already knew. Knew about you and your lil' girlfriends. And when we realized we couldn' get to your brother, we got to you lot instead."

Sebastian felt the lump, probably his heart, still blocking his airway, making it difficult to take in air.

"In our clan, the way of life is an eye for an eye. The way of the bible. If we couldn' get him, we had to satisfy the universe with another life in his place. Simon needed to know - to understand that we'd never stop lookin', and every person he even looked at too long, would suffer for his betrayal."

It was too much. His mind was overflowing with too many thoughts, spurned on by a mixture of uproarious feelings.

"T-the cross? The fuckin' cards... and the - the bible shit? All of it... that was you?"

"Thought it added a nice touch. Wouldn' ya agree?"

The smirk, devilish and proud, the cool eyes, distilled with an underlying jeering... he did it. He'd killed them. And the fucker was completely barren of remorse.

Sebastian wasted no time as the knife was out of his pocket and skidding the skin of the Irishman's neck. He yanked him by the hair, exposing his throat as the knife jabbed at the surface, hovering the line of poking through skin with just one quick motion.

Simon was watching the scene, an essence of a giddiness straining against the small smile.

"Do it Seb. Take him out."

Sebastian was gritting his teeth, the knife shaking within his grip.

"He killed them, man. He fuckin' took them from us. Open him up!"

Rory's expression was dark, clouded by a hard acceptance.

"C'mon then, Sebastian. Do what your brother says. Kill me then. But you remember who brought this all on ya. Who brought us to you. And to the girls."

Sebastian pushed the knife deeper, watching with satisfaction as a trickle of blood slid down the pale throat.

"SEBASTIAN!"

Metal banging drew his attention, though the knife remained avidly pressed against Rory's trachea.

"Well if it isn't my bottom bitch. And oh - this must be Daddy Hummel. Nice to meet you. I've heard nothing about you," Simon trills in a playful tone.

Kurt had burst through the door, panting, eyes brimming with tears at the scene playing out. Burt Hummel was also huffing, trying to catch his breath as he brought up the rear.

"Funny. I've heard every cringe worthy thing I'd care to know about you. Now what the hell's going on?!" Burt shouts.

"You came just in time to watch Seb make this Irishman sing from his throat," Simon explains as if recalling something as normal as a coffee order.

"Seb - wha - what're you doin' kid? Put the knife down."

"It was him Burt. He killed them. He blew the church up. Chained Brittany up like a fuckin' animal. He killed Brit and San. I can't let it go. I can't -"

"Yes, you can. He'll get his justice. He will. But not at the cost of you giving everything you are - everything you can be, away. He's not worth that. He isn't worth giving up your life, kid."

"What life Burt? I can't keep playing house with you guys anymore. You and I both know that. What was I gonna chase after Kurt while he went away to some prestigious college? Work at a Denny's as a fuckin' dishwasher while he goes off to become something great - meets somebody else who's actually worthy of him?"

"What I know, is that you're a smart man, with a messed up past that was out of your control, who makes my kid happy, and wants better for himself - has a right to better. And you're family. Our family. End of story. That's all I need to know. And that son of a bitch behind you, doesn't know the meaning of the word. Now please, walk away, son."

Sebastian blinks back the warmth behind his eyes, feels his steely grip wavering.

"Sebastian - please," Kurt whimpers.

The knife falls to his side at the same time his tears fall, curving over the slope of his cheek and disappearing on the ground drowned in darkness.

He releases his hold on the brown tresses, and steps back.

"What are you doing? He killed them. He admitted it to you. What are you doing?!" Simon barks frantically.

His eyes lock on blue. His feet begin to carry him toward the pair huddled in the doorway.

"Fine. That's how it is," Simon mumbles. "So be it."

Rory's voice carries over the quiet, a resigned quiescence to the statement.

"If you lie down, you will not be afraid; when you lie down, your sleep... will be sweet."

Kurt's suddenly shocked expression, hands flying up to cover his open mouth, and blue eyes blown wide open with tumultuous fear, causes Seb to turn around.

"Simon - no!"

Blood spurts, shooting out from the buck knife's trail across the once unmarred neck. A smooth swipe that opened up the throat cleanly, leaving Rory gargling and gasping as he bleeds out.

Kurt screams pitifully, while Burt attempts to shield his son, his own expression of disgust easily readable.

Simon throws the man down hard, wiping his knife off on his pants as casually as if the blade was seeped with spilt ketchup, and not stained by human blood. He glares at Sebastian coldly.

"I fuckin' give him to you on a silver platter, and you can't even fuckin' manage to take care of him? After what he did... you're a fuckin' useless whore, you are."

His own shock keeps him rooted to the spot. Seb wants to cover his ears to ignore the desparate gasping breaths that didn't grant air; the sickening choking sounds that signal the Irishman drowning on his own fluid that runs from the deep gash like a waterfall of crimson.

"As always - I have to do everything. But does anybody care? No. Does anybody give a fuck about what I had to go through to keep us in the clear? To keep all of us breathing? To make sure you didn't get turned out behind bars and rammed up the ass for a pack of cigs? To give you some sort of a life where you fuckin' didn't have to answer to society's bull shit, and get stepped on by everybody else who thought of you and the girls as nothin' but the scummy, left over offspring of a bunch of fuckin' nobody's? Huh? No - nobody gives a fuck. Your daddy sure as hell didn't give a fuck about you. And I stepped in. I saved you. I saved your ass, when I could've just left you there for dead. That's right - me!"

"Wha - what the hell are you talkin' about?"

"I'm talkin' about your piece of shit dad, Sebby. He brought you into his bullshit and basically left you for dead - that's what. But you don't wanna hear about that, right? Lest you forget dear brother... you came here lookin' for somebody."

Sebastian is struggling to regain his composure. That's right - he came here for his friend. He came here for Dave, but he can't help but wonder mutinously about Simon's disclosure. But for now - for Dave, it needed to wait.

"Where is he, Simon? Please, man. He has nothing to do with this."

"He - he has David?" Kurt blusters, tears glazing his porcelain skin as his father's withering glower pierces Simon, watching him carefully for any sudden movements.

Simon's gaze lingers on Kurt, his smirk oozing contempt.

"You don't really love him. You don't really want my brother do you? Not when there's guys like your chubby, college bound, all american, closet case, ready to take you under his arm and give you a promised life of mediocre appreciation that's just presentable enough for mommy and daddy. Why do you keep stringin' him along when you clearly have a hard on for your Bear?"

"Y-you don't know what I feel for Sebastian. And Dave is a good friend. I just - please, if y-you have him, just please... let him go."

Simon bites his lip, tapping the knife against his temple as if thinking it over.

Burt calls out, "look - enough of this crap. If you have that kid, it's best you hand him over. I already called the cops, and they'll be on their way. And you - you're gonna be put away for a long time buddy. But if he's still alive, for your own sake, I would suggest you let him go with us. Do the right thing here. Try to show your brother that you at least have one ounce of sanity and good intention left in you before this thing is over."

Simon twists the knife around, a gesture of continued contemplation as the trio stares at him unfailingly.

"Fair enough Super dad."

Simon takes a step to the side, disappearing momentarily behind a corner of the building. Sebastian feels his heart swelling with anticipation, and then suddenly freeze and stiffen in his chest when Simon re-emerges, dragging along a clearly disoriented figure, hobbling forward, and looking stricken.

"Oh God," Kurt murmurs. "D-David?"

Simon is clinging to him by the back of his soiled letterman's jacket, holding him upright, as Dave slumps forward, head bowed and hands pinned behind his back similarly to how Rory had been.

"Dave? Cubby - Cubby, look up," Seb tries.

Dave barely brings his head up. His mouth is covered by duct tape, his right eye swollen shut and several bruises lining his forehead and cheek. His palor is tinted white underneath the bruising, as if he was close to fainting.

The anger was boiling. His self restraint meandering on nill, as Sebastian began striding forward.

"Ah - ah - ah, Sebby," and Simon puts Dave in a solid choke hold, the knife held absently over the broad chest, slowly circling as if waiting to find a home against Dave's throat. "You don't want me to get too over-excited. Just ask Rory. Or better yet, my old pal Aidan. Stubborn bastard had thick bones, sort of like what I'd imagine this burly motherfucker would have no doubt."

"Dad -"

"Stay back, Kurt. Hey!"

Both Simon and Sebastian look back at Burt Hummel, who is slowly making his way forward toward Seb, hands held out in a posture of surrender.

"Whatever you're tryin' to prove here, this kid has nothin' to do with it. He's got a father, a family waiting at home for him. Don't do this. Look - if you want someone, take me."

"Dad - no!"

Sebastian looks over at Burt's determined face, lost in disbelief at what had spilled from the man's mouth. Simon shakes his head with that ill-placed smirk still present.

"I don't want you. Hell, I don't even want this big batch of gay," and he made a point to kick Cubby away from him, Kurt gasping at the gesture, and Sebastian making to run forward - Burt grabbing his arm to keep him in place.

"So get him. I never wanted him."

Burt is looking cautiously between Simon and Dave, fixed at some crossroads between acting and being patient.

"Go on. Get the fucker already!"

Burt steps forward, hands still held out, then grips Dave by his arm, eyes trained on Simon, as he pulls him to his feet and slowly eases the large teen a safe distance away.

"Besides, Sebastian knows what I really want. And now it's here."

It was Sebastian's turn to smirk.

"You murdered these people. Kidnapped Dave, hurt Kurt - all of that... don't you dare say you did it for me."

Simon chuckles, "I don't think I need to say it. Do I?" He then takes out a cigarette, lights it with a cheap lighter that was some awful yellow color, and sucks in deeply. "You want an explanation."

It was a statement, admittedly one that was nothing but true. But Seb doesn't say so. He refuses to make it that easy, to acknowledge that his brother was exactly right.

"When I was nineteen, I'd already been workin' with the Irish Mafia for several years. They took me in. Showed me the ropes. I found something of a home with them. And they used me for odd jobs. Collectin' debts - that sort of thing. And when people couldn't deliver, I took them out - on the clan's payroll of course."

Sebastian was waiting with bated breath, his green eyes never leaving the figure expelling smoke rings while regaling his story.

"The night I met you Seb, I was on a job. William Smythe. That was his name. Your dad."

"I thought - what are telling me?"

"Old Billy boy was a fuckin' drunk - a weak, woman beatin' waste of space, with a habit of gamblin' away whatever he hadn't already wasted on booze. He took out a loan that he couldn't pay back. Not in full at least. They sent me to deal with him, alone of course. I was pretty good at my job after all."

Sebastian only had eyes for Simon. Even Kurt's panicked plea's for Sebastian to leave, to walk away with them and leave this man behind, fell on deaf ears.

"I met with him to collect. The bastard gave me a few grand, but it wasn't enough. And then I looked over at his parked car. That's when I saw you. Some snot nosed little toddler, drifting off in your car seat. He tried to beg. Told me, 'please, I'm a father - that's my son, Sebastian - I need to get him home to his mom'".

Seb's whole body was tightening up, filling to burst. What was he saying? His dad? A mom?

"Then I told him I understand. Told him, yeah, I get it. That no kid should go without a dad. He smiled, grinned from ear to ear, like Christmas came early. And when he turned his back to get back in the car... I put a bullet in his head."

The air was thick with un-said words; the silence harboring an almost kinetic energy, crackling and spitting with tension.

"When I looked over and saw you, fast asleep in your car seat, I could've left you. As far out as we were, no one would've found you, and you probably would've given into dehydration within a few days. But then I knew, that you were the answer. I'd already been gnashing at the teeth to leave the Mafia behind me; start fresh. So I took my chance. I grabbed you, car seat and all, took a lump sum of what I felt those bastards owed me, including your daddy's cash, and left. A nineteen year old with nothin' but a bag of cash, and a fuckin' baby. And I never looked back."

Sebastian absurdly thinks of what Dave had once said, the day he had last seen him...

_"I'm gonna be doing things. I'm gonna play college ball, get an education, and never fucking look back."_

He was broken out of his tortured reverie by that voice - the one that had once built his entire world, and had now done the deed of leaving it broken in irreplacable shards at his feet.

"Us constantly moving, never stayin' in one place too long, never gettin' you into school... all of that, was to keep you alive. To keep _us_ alive. And I raised you as my brother. 'Cause based on my experience, dad's ain't shit. I couldn't stand the thought of you lookin' at me as your father. The deadbeat who never gave two shits about his kid, just to use him - bring him along like some fuckin' mascot so his debt collecters would feel sorry for him. Fuck that."

"No," Seb utters monotonously, the words finally coming to him. "But you'd rather have me calling you daddy when you'd forcibly fuck me into the mattress, beat the fuckin' shit outta me, and tell me I was shit. Pimp me out to fuckin' countless strangers. You - I always thought - you were supposed to be my brother."

Simon flicks the dying cigarette over the edge of the building.

"You were supposed to be loyal - to stay with me. Guess we can't always get what we want. Can we Sebby?"

The thoughts are muddled, no longer making sense as they blurred into a mess of red tinted within his vision. Everything... every single thing he knew about his life was a lie... all of it...

Then there's a sudden explosion - where he feels himself kick the bagged head full force at the lying, life stealing bastard, and rushing at him like a speeding train.

Simon is knocked off balance by the head careening at him, blocking his face as the thing smacked against his shoulder, distracting him long enough for Sebastian to crash into him.

Seb tackles him to the ground; Simon's knife flying from his grip, and following the cigarette's path over the building's edge. He lands a punch across Simon's face, follows it up with another, and another, and then Simon rolls them over, both of them tussling in hopes to get the upper hand.

"Hey! Let him go!" Burt rushes over to pull Simon off of Seb, but is halted by a flash of steel grazing his arm.

"Dad!"

Simon has managed to get his arm around Seb's throat, the other hand holding up the dilapidated switch blade from Seb's pocket in strike position, daring anyone else to advance.

The fucker had somehow snuck the blade from Seb's jacket pocket during their brief physical scuffle.

Burt was holding his arm, eyes clouded with indescribable anger as Kurt, helped him to his feet.

Sebastian was also semi-dragged to a standing position, Simon's arm pressed into his windpipe, the knife tip pushing into his right cheek. Simon spat blood before speaking, his breath coming in a slightly labored inhale-exhale rhythm, as he spoke between sharp intakes.

"Next one will be his face - if you come any closer. He's always been pretty. I'd hate to mess that up."

Burt remained still, blood oozing through his fingers over where he was gripping the gash on his forearm. Kurt was standing stiffly by his side, his blue eyes boiling over with warm tears as he looked helplessly at Sebastian.

"What're you gonna do? You gonna kill me?" Sebastian chokes out. "Guess it wouldn't make a difference, would it? Since I'm just a complete fuckin' stranger to you."

"Is that what you really think of me brother?"

"Don't call me that!" Sebastian hurls venomously.

"Right. See, that's why I never told you. I knew you would never understand," Simon mutters, a slight twinge of sadness infusing the statement.

It was then that the silence was broken apart by the sirens wailing and howling below. Burt shoots a renewed look of determination at Simon, nodding over the edge at the tell tale sound of the cavalry arriving.

"I warned you. They're here now. They'll be bustin' open this door in less than two minutes, tops. The way I see it - you only got two options. Go quietly, or don't - but we both know how that last option's gonna end."

Simon's arm that was pressing into Seb's throat seemed to slacken, the pressure less acute, and the knife tip suddenly free of his skin.

"That's good - just like that. Now, let Sebastian go. You don't want him to get hurt. Let him come over here with us."

Sebastian could see the look in his peripheral vision; something in Simon - it was different, as if he was lost in a place of no return. A similar air of complacency that had graced Rory's features before the blood spurted across his pale skin and left him in a heap of pooled death.

Simon smiled then, a thin veil of bittersweet, that looked odd, and out of place on that particular face. It was the first honest smile Seb could remember seeing on the man in years.

"I just want you to know, that you were the only one - the only person that I ever loved more than myself. And that it was real - to me, it was always real."

Sebastian felt himself grow cold.

"Simon - Si?"

"And I would never stab you in the back. Not even now."

Somehow the grip had transformed into Simon hugging him tightly, and for just a moment, he almost brought his hands up to reciprocate the gesture - to actually feel this man, the one who had tears in his dark eyes and spoke of some sort of genuine love.

"Sebastian!"

It was quick, the first strike, and then another one... he watched as blood stained through his shirt, his own switch blade sticking out of his stomach.

"NOOO! Seb!"

He blinks down at the wound, and then up at his once before brother. Kurt had screamed his name - was still screaming, he thinks anyway... it's difficulty to understand, everything feels like it's moving in slow motion, and sounds blend out into the air, disappearing into nothing...

"I loved you," Simon whispered simply, the tears trailing over that foreign smile. And then he was gone, Seb slumping forward as he reached over the ledge, where Simon was falling backwards into the night, hurdling toward the ground like a stone.

He crawls to the edge, peering over, not knowing what to expect, because logic had long since been lost on this whole situation...

Simon's body was spread eagle on the top of one of the cop car's, unmoving, broken... dead. But for a mad second, even from the distance, he thinks he glimpses that stupid smile still present, even in death.

Hands are on him now, turning him over. And the volume seems to return, their words becoming distinct over the din of his own heartbeat, slowing with each pump.

"D-dad, he's bleeding a lot - t-there's so much blood."

"I know, just, keep your hands over the wound - and don't touch the knife! We pull it out, no tellin' the damage we'd do. Just hold tight. Sebastian. Can you hear me? Stay with us. You hear me kid? You keep breathin' damn it."

He tastes the copper, it's obsructing his ability to breathe. Kurt's tears are mingling with the blood running from Seb's mouth.

"Please - don't leave me. D-don't leave me, Sebastian. I love you - p-please."

"Keep up the pressure, I'm gettin' help," and Burt disappears, calling out as he rushes out the metal door. Seb's head lolls to the side, and he observes Dave in the distance, slumped against the wall near the door, hands still fastened behind his back, the hazel eye that wasn't swollen shut, glassy, and unfocused.

He looks back up toward the sky, a velvety black, painted with clusters of diamond like stars.

He feels really cold, and Kurt's words are becoming indistinct again. His eyes capture blue, red from crying, and trail over perfect lips, the normally pale skin of his face blotched with red.

Kurt was beautiful. From the first night that he saw him at that shitty little bar, to this very moment... Kurt was absolutely beautiful to him. Suddenly the urge to tell him so is precedent above all else. No matter how much blood he spit up, or how much pain it caused him...

"W-what?"

"Y-you're... you're beautiful... K-Kurt," he manages to gasp out.

"You are too. S-so beautiful," Princess mumbles between sobs, bending lower in order to place a chaste kiss over Seb's chapped, blood kissed lips.

"Now keep breathing. Do you hear me? I'm - I'm not losing you - not like this. I - I need you, Seb. I love you so much."

Seb nods, letting his head fall to the side, trying to listen, trying to keep breathing as he was told.

He can't remember feeling this cold before. Like the ice had seeped into his very bones and chafed him raw, from the inside out. Even the pain was starting to dissipate, growing numb with the biting cold.

He wasn't sure how long he'd laid there. He doesn't remember how many people were around or who was saying what to him. He doesn't even remember the knife being removed. The last thing he recalls was the sight of Simon, head staring upwards, hand hanging lifelessly over the roof of the cop car he had smashed in with his fall, as Sebastian was wheeled past the scene and pulled back into the ambulance.

He blinks heavily, the oxygen mask covering most of his face, as his green eyes land on the object of his absolute affection and purest love.

Kurt was screaming something - something about being able to go with him. Burt was holding him back, several officers attempting to usher them away to the side.

As the doors slam shut, he takes Kurt in carefully, the face still framed in the door window, etching ever bit of that face in his mind's eye until finally, darkness overtook him, and everything went silent behind a veil of midnight.

* * *

**A/N:** Whhhaaaaat?... I hope you didn't think I'd leave it there. Don't freak out quite yet. I'll try to get the next one up as soon as I can but it's not over, so please don't fret my dears. Review please! I need them to sustain the writing juices and to jump start the inspiration. Plus I just love to get your guy's feedback. Truly. Not only does it inspire and validate my efforts, but it makes all of it feel worth it to me and to evaluate where I'm heading in the story - if it feels like the right direction. Please let your thoughts be known! Every single one is read and appreciated with love.


	25. Chapter 25

A slow drag of cool liquid, ebbing and flowing, saturating his skin. A sound, foreign, yet familiar drawing his senses.

His eyes flutter open, the brightness overwhelming at first, burning his irises as he takes in his surroundings, takes in the soft tactility of the material brushing against the pads of his fingertips where he's lying, breathing in wetness and sweetness all at once.

He breathes in deeply, slowly, and manages to push himself into a sitting position.

He's on the sands of a beach. The water free of debris and perfectly crystalline, the ethereal waves rolling over the sand, mushing it into a paste that caresses like a light whisper, crashing in tides that hum across the shore.

He finds his feet, standing up, trying to understand. He looks over himself, immediately noting the lack of blood, and subsequently the lack of pain. He's barefoot, in nothing but jeans and a white undershirt, clinging to him like a second skin, slightly transparent from the touch of water that had skimmed over his body.

His first thoughts are of him.

"Kurt," he calls out.

There is no response but for the lurking ocean, beating against white sand in a rhythmic intonation.

"Kurt!"

He bounds up the pearl colored sands toward an enbankment, scrambling to climb over the sand dune, and learn what lies beyond.

It takes a while. At least it feels like long moments that leave him flushed and breathing heavily, yet there was no perspiration crawling over his skin. And as he overtakes the peak, its as if he had glided to the top; no evidence of any true struggle apparent.

"Kurt! Kurt!"

He's starting to feel desparate as he looks out at the open land, his barefeet tickled by cool green grass. As he looks out into the distance, his eyes skirt across a sight that causes him to draw in a breath.

The distance is rippling in a familiar gold, drenched in soft brush that he knows quite well. The same fields he's seen countless times behind closed eyelids.

"You won't find him here."

He whips around at the sound of that voice; the same one that he'd last heard ringing through the chasms of an enormous church before it...

"W-what - I - Santana?"

"You won't find him here," she repeats kindly.

"Why? Where is he?"

"Not here. Not for a while anyway."

He doesn't know what to say to that. But she's here - right here in front of him, alive, vibrant,and breathing; lustrous curtains of brunette hair lapping across her back, dark eyes twinkling with a dancing merriment, and a lingering smile trailing over full lips.

He reaches out and brushes her cheek, shocked that he can actually feel warm skin. She closes her eyes, and rests her own hand over his, that rare smile widening at the exchange.

"I - I'm so sorry, San," he breathes. "It's my fault. I shouldn't have let you go. I - I killed you both," he mumbles, the salty taste of his tears suddenly prevelant.

She answers with a continued smile, bringing both of their hands away, clutching his within her own as the appendages rest easily between their bodies in a light clasp.

"Oh, Seb. Always the Samurai. Even now."

He wants to look away in shame, but is too scared that she'll disappear the moment he breaks eye contact.

"C'mon. I need to show you something."

He has so many questions; so many things itching to be posed, stated, confirmed... but he simply allows himself to be led forward, still holding her hand.

As they trek across green, which begins melting into the familiar lush of gold, they stop at the sight of a large tree several yards ahead.

"Is that where we're going?"

"Something like that. Now keep up, Twinky."

He can't help but smile at the term of endearment as they continue on. As the tree grows larger in his line of sight, he realizes, a sense of absolute awe consuming him, that there's a specificity to this particular tree; it's auburn colored leaves bright against the golden backdrop.

"Is this - is this a..."

"Yeah. Just like the book."

He stares up at it. He's only ever seen images of its kind on the web, but it was just as he remembered: a sizable red fern.

"I know you're enjoying the view Twinktard, but I need you to look a little closer."

He swallows as he looks back at the Latina, noting her subtle nod at the base of the tree. He releases her hand, stealing a glance over his shoulder to make sure that she was still present, hadn't disappeared on him, and steps toward the base, eyes grazing over rough bark.

Scratched into the surface was a heart, outlining two names...

**Brit + San**

He blinks back tears as he runs his hand over the design.

"Where is she?"

"Here," another voice answers. He looks up and gets lost in blond hair framing a sea of greenish-blue, two pools that were almost gray in the warm sunlight.

"Brit?"

She nods and steps from behind the tree, materializing in front of him; tall frame, sun-kissed skin, and a wonderous flash of teeth stretched in a joyful grin.

He doesn't hesitate to hug her to him, to breathe in her flowerly scent, and just feel her. When he pulls away, she brushes a chaste kiss across his cheek.

"You know that we're always here. Don't you Seb?"

"Here, where?" he inquires incredulously.

She reaches out and lays the palm of her hand flat over his chest, directly over where his heart rests.

"In here. That's where we'll always be. No matter what. You just have to remember that."

"W-where is this place?"

Brittany brings her hand away, following Seb's eyes around the expanse of scenery.

"Whatever you want it to be. It's your place after all, silly."

He takes his time to look over everything: the wheat colored fields that stretched into the distance unseen, the large red fern that grew unexpectedly and tall, no others like it as it stood alone, and the bluest ocean beyond the embankment, so blue that he couldn't help but think of a certain pair of eyes...

"I know that smile. Come look," Brit directs. She indicates the other side of the tree. He follows, squinting across the bark until his heart stutters at the sight of another heart, strategically etched into the surface of the tree.

**Seb + Kurt**

He's already caressing the lines, feeling every indentation, every thin cut.

"Where's Kurt? Why's he not here?"

Both girls exchange a look, a tender glance carrying an unspoken understanding that was beyond Sebastian's grasp.

"What? Why isn't he here?"

"I told you. He's not supposed to be. Not now," Santana explains patiently.

"Do I have to wait for him to come?" he asks, eyes returning to graze over his hand perusing the heart design harboring his and Kurt's names.

"That's up to you. But before you decide, I think there's someone you should meet," she continues.

He turns to face them again, wild eyed and full of confusion.

"Who?"

"Him," Brit exclaims, smiling at a figure who suddenly emerged from around the tree.

Sebastian had to observe for several seconds before it became clear; before he could dispell the disbelief enough to finally comprehend.

"But that's..."

"You got it, meerkat," San quips. "I think he may be a little lost."

Sebastian exhales slowly, takes a step toward the smaller figure, and then kneels down in front of him.

"Hi," he tries in an uncommonly soft voice.

The child looks up, and he can't help but feel startled by the small doppleganger staring back up at him, his same eyes reflecting back, a shade of green that he recalls seeing regularly in mirrors.

He was looking at himself. The child version of himself, no more than maybe eight or nine years old.

"Hi," child Sebastian breathes back. He looks scared, hunched in on himself as he hugs his knees to his small chest.

"You don't have to be scared."

"Why not? Everybody either hurts me, or leaves me."

Sebastian can feel his heart breaking.

"But not me. I'll always be here for you."

"But it's always my fault. I can't keep them because I'm not good."

He reaches out a tentative hand, gently laying it on child Seb's shoulder.

"Listen to me. You had the bad luck of being led into the arms of somebody who told you that you weren't good. But that person was wrong. They didn't know how strong, and smart, or good you are. And that you have people in your life who see that in you too."

"Like who?"

Seb pauses. He looks back at Brit and San, who both flash encouraging smiles. He turns back to child Seb.

"Like me, for one."

Child Seb is staring unabashedly at him now; daring to believe what the strange adult figure with twin eyes was sharing.

When Sebastian looks up, for some reason, he isn't totally shocked at the sight that greets him.

It's her... the woman he'd always seen over the years, dormant in his dreams. She seemed taller, especially standing next to the tiny frame undearneath a crop of brunette locks, that was gripping her hand.

"Do you see them?"

Child Seb looks over and eyes the pair standing in the distance.

"Yeah?"

"Them too. They believe in the good in you too."

Sebastian huffs, dusting off his jeans as he stands up, and holds out his hand for himself to take.

"C'mon. They're waiting for you."

"Really?"

"Yeah. I think - I think they've always been waiting."

Child Seb blinks up at Sebastian, but then finally settles his smaller hand in the larger one, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. They traipse forward purposefully, the pair awaiting them becoming more distinct as they close the distance.

He halts when they're mere yards away, close enough for those blue eyes to beam and writhe as they stared lovingly at them, focusing intently on child Seb.

Child Kurt lets the woman's hand go, meandering forward with a happy smile plastered across the pale face.

"Hi," the little version of Kurt greets smoothly.

"H-hi," Child Seb replies in a timid manner.

"C'mon. It's time to go," Child Kurt relates, his small hand outstretched for his smaller self to take. Child Seb hesitates, looking up at Sebastian.

"But - but what about you?"

For some reason the answer came easily. As if he'd always known from whatever beginning, from some other life.

"I'll be fine. Now so will you."

Sebastian then addresses child Kurt. "You'll take care of him?"

The brunette readily nods.

"We'll take care of each other," he assures wisely, and then child Seb slips his hand into Kurt's.

Several times he sees himself, his child self, look back over his shoulder. But eventually the small figure reaches the elusive blond woman, who watches both boys with sweeping adoration, and the trio march together and disappear amongst the golden hue of forever; both boys laughter and joy echoing beautifully across the plain.

"It's beautiful here," she breathes from just behind his shoulder. He doesn't turn to address her; simply keeps his gaze trained on the hill of gold that the small group had huddled over, vanishing.

"But you won't find him here," she concludes, her voice earnest, and softer than he remembers it being before it was stolen by death. Santana steps back, grabbing Brittany's hand as they continue to observe Sebastian carefully.

His eyes wander over to the tree, a beacon of brightness splashed across this gorgeous canvass of picturesque wilderness. He thinks of Kurt's name, cinched so closely to his, deeply marked into that perfect tree.

"We'll be waiting for you. Till then, be happy with him, Twink."

He turns to face the pair, eyes stinging with warmth.

"You're asking me to leave you - to leave you behind again. Aren't you?"

"We're already gone, Seb. And we're okay. Trust me. You never left us behind, and you never will. 'Cause we'll always be right there," and she nods toward the tree, gesturing at the carved heart corraling both her and Brit's name.

"We're always with you, Seb," Brittany adds candidly.

He swallows, in hopes to relieve the sob that's struggling to free itself from his throat.

"And if you dare mutter some sappy shit about loving us, and how much you'll miss us, I will take a note from Baby Oprah's book, and make you a specially handcrafted pair of ballrings. Got it?" Santana warns.

The laughter bubbles forth, mingling with the tears that trail over warm skin.

"Got it."

"See ya, Seb," Brit smiles.

"Yeah. See ya."

And before he can convince himself to stay, he takes off, speeding toward the abyss that took form of the ocean. He runs as fast as his legs can carry him, launching himself over the dune and breezing over pearly sands toward pure water.

"KUUURrrrrt!"

He dives head first into the water, and lets it carry him as he beats through the waves with sure strokes; his heart beating rapidly, ramming against his ribcage in a cacophonous rhythm...

...

_beep, beep, beep, beep_

...

"K-Krrr."

_beep, beep, beep, beep_

...

"K-Kurt."

The beeping is blaring, heavy in the quiet atmosphere. He tries to open his eyes, the sensation of the lids being glued shut, hindering his efforts.

There's something warm in his hand, a weight shifting as he feels himself taking in air.

"Oh my God," a voice whispers. Then louder, "Oh, God... Dad! Dad! Doctor Barnes! Somebody - he's, he's waking up. Sebastian? Seb? Honey - can you hear me? Squeeze my hand if you can hear me?"

He does, squeezing as much as he can manage which is likely weak, but apparently enough for the man who's voice he could recognize even in the depths of sleep.

Princess gasps, his voice overwrought with emotion. Sebastian would give anything to be able to see his face.

He tries again to unfasten his eyelids, putting all conscious effort into the task. Eventually they flutter open, squinting against the harsh glare that assaults his vision upon meeting the reality beyond darkness.

And then he sees him.

He sees blue, burning with moisture, slightly reddened. Limp strands of brunette hair, messy and untamed. Pouty lips, crimping into an exhausted smile. And he feels it: the pressure of the pale hand gripping his own fiercely.

"H-hey - Princess," he mutters, straining to get the words out; his breath clouding up the oxygen mask covering his mouth and nose.

"Hey you," Kurt retorts, beads of water forming steadily in his eyes, and escaping over heated cheeks.

It hurts. Physically. Suddenly everything hurts, and he can feel himself gasping, fidgeting under the strain of the abrupt sensation.

"Seb - Oh God, please don't - Dr. Barnes! Dr. Barnes!"

Several people rush into the room, checking screens, calling out numbers. It was a flurry of movement that seemed to swallow him up, and all he cared about was reaching out to Kurt; keeping him there with him.

"What's happening? Is he gonna be okay?!"

"You'll have to leave Kurt. But I assure you, he'll be okay. He's just in pain. That's all. He's just feeling the after effects."

He witnesses what looks to be a nurse hanging up a plastic bag, a line running from the bag into his arm, taped into place.

Sebastian finds himself trying to bring his hand up, to pull Kurt back to him, but he's ultimately too weak, and he's finding it increasingly hard to keep his eyes open. The pain that had been intensifying inexplicably is now receding, flushing out of his system.

"Alright, the morphine dose looks like it's kicking in. Kurt, please, I know you want to be here with him, but there's nothing more you can do right now. Let the medicine do it's work so he can rest. His vitals are looking really good, okay? But he's going to need to keep resting in order to get better."

He blearily makes out Kurt's figure, standing near another figure adorning a white coat that looked to be a woman judging by the tone of voice, who's gently ushering him out the door.

Seb's starting to drift off, but he just manages to impart a smile, robustly happy that he was able to see Princess' face again. That he was able to truly observe his love once more, when he had been so close to having to wait in probable isolation by an enormous red fern, for an unspecified bout of time. He knows he could've done it, that he would've done it... but it felt more endurable having accomplished seeing his Kurt in the flesh. That he could go back to that place wholly satisfied; but estatic that he wouldn't be. At least not for a while.

* * *

**A/N:** I hope that this chap wasn't too confusing. It was kind of on some weird, acid trippyness, I know. I also realized after I finished it that it reminded me a bit of Harry Potter. Especially Brit's line about the place being what Seb wanted it to be... but meh? What can you do? This is how I saw this playing out so I went for it. I'm not completely surprised that I was probably subconsciously inspired by a masterpiece such as the Potter. Basically, just to disrupt any potential confusion, I'll do my best to briefly recap. Sebastian was trapped in limbo (life and death) and this is what he envisioned. During the vision, he got a chance to forgive himself (his encounter with the girls) and let his past go (helping his child self). In his version of 'heaven' so to speak, he saw things that were meaningful to him (the ocean which was blue like Kurt's eyes), the tree (from his favorite book), and the gold hills that he always sees in his dreams. Child Seb going with Child Kurt (and the mystery woman) was a symbol of Sebastian submitting himself to the other man, finally giving himself faithfully and with utmost trust, to love. Also, no, he's not dead. He won't be dying. Our boy has officially made it out of the woods and is in the hospital (hence the beeping... and no there's no bomb under his bed - promise). Hope this answers any lingering questions (but you can always hit me up if you have other things you want to ask or comment on) and as always, please review with sugar on top!


	26. Chapter 26

He no longer required the mask. At least, not as much.

That was good for several reasons. One, being that he was showing signs of being able to breathe independently, and soundly enough without assistance. The other, that his speech wasn't muffled or indiscernable, disturbed and broken apart by the plastic caging his mouth; Sebastian grimacing in pain when attempting to raise his voice, but eventually settling into a lethargic disposition to avoid the frustration of trying to communicate and ending in pain.

Dr. Barnes had explained it all to him when he was finally coherent and lucid enough to comprehend.

That his lung hadn't fully collapsed; that it'd been knicked and required surgery. That the injuries by some miracle, hadn't perforated any major organs or arteries, with the exception of his spleen, which was promptly removed in an emergency surgery upon his arrival to the hospital.

But fuck, who needed it anyway? Spleen's are practically useless and apparently not necessary to function normally anyhow, so no real loss there.

He was into his second week there. He was still too sore to move most days, which basically resulted in him being confined to the narrow hospital bed; the notion of invisible chains reminding him grievously of Brittany.

Dr. Barnes, a petite brunette, with a quiet yet explicit, straightforward nature, explained that he would likely be kept in the hospital for the next six weeks at least, pending any potential infenctions or issues with his breathing.

Faces came and went. Most of them a picturesque mask of sympathy, an air of uncertainty curtained behind bright smiles.

The Hudmel clan of course. Some times altogether. Other days individually or in pairs. Some days it was Mercedes, and once or twice even Cubby.

He felt an odd mixture of relief and anger when in their company.

Gracious and receptive to their presence on some days, but then a surge of resentment would inexplicably envelope him on others. Those were the days that he would go without speaking, and instead substitute any active verbal reciprocation with vague smiles and a nodding head; hoping that was enough to deter any questions about his behavior, and satisfy his visitors enough to continue laughing and carrying on as if he wasn't dying inside a little in those moments.

The girls were still gone. He was still hospitalized. He still didn't have a brother. His life still wasn't really his.

He was like a ghost. Some silent entity floating about, simply watching them, feeling their aura, but not really immersed in it... as if he was somewhere between life and death; somewhere in which nothing made sense, and he was some faceless nobody who should've been housed on the back of a milk carton.

Some other kid... some other life.

He couldn't stop thinking that somewhere out there... he once had a Mom. He once had a family. He once had a chance at a real life. And it was fucking depressing to think of his missed opportunity.

No... stolen opportunity.

Weirdly enough, when he was under the impression of belonging to his brother, there existed some twisted semblance of value, purpose. He made sense somewhere, no matter how fucked up it was.

But now?... What exactly now?

Amongst the regular visiting faces had been new ones. Unfamiliar but authoritative figures with grim expressions and brusque speech, talking, nodding, taking notes, and labeling his life under the guise of being detectives.

They asked him everything that he had dreaded to talk about. He didn't want to deal with it. But there they would be, piecing together his existence question after question like a morose jigsaw puzzle.

His entire history noted like a practice essay, a second thought.

What Simon had said before he threw himself off their building was true.

Maybe the only thing he'd ever uttered that was true.

Apparently Simon had been a well known affiliate with the Irish Mafia branched out of Rhode Island. They had linked over half a dozen murders to him. And those were the instances where that they had actually found bodies, or rather what was left. Nobody knew exactly how many people he'd killed in cold blood over the years. The suspicions suggested that the number was much higher than what they'd originally surmised.

Simon Kelly...

Sebsatian tries to think of what could've turned him. What had Simon's life been before _that_ kind of life - that sorted, unapologetic, cold hearted life that he'd led in his adult years? Even that sick bastard had a beginning, had a story that had cultivated his sickness.

The most he'd gotten from the detectives was that Simon had been in and out of foster care, shifted from relative to relative, until he ended up a run away, and had a significant rap sheet by the time he was only thirteen.

A familiar story, all things considered.

Abuse, neglect, horrendous acts of violence... all things that were Simon's experience before he'd even hit his pre-teen years. He couldn't help but feel some connection to him when he watched the detective's scribbling down Seb's life story on a spare piece of paper.

His life splayed out across a page and read over in a monotonous voice; the reader disconnected from what the words actually meant... just reading over them like some unimportant celebrity blog.

Simon's entire history was just some words spliced together... a file that would be long forgotten after their lunch time.

But Sebastian would always carry Simon with him. His legacy was pressed into Seb's heart against his will. All the memories, good and bad, simply there.

The last murder that they'd been able to link Simon to, outside of his recent Irish prey, was of course, William Eugene Smythe... Sebastian's supposed bio-father.

It was the day that they'd been discussing that last bit of information that he'd realized how much Burt Hummel had grown to care for him.

"Alright. I think that's enough. He's answered all he needs to answer for today."

"Mr. Hummel. You're not his legal guardian. Mr. Smythe - Sebastian, is obligated to discuss -"

They had missed the flash of pain course through him, reflected in his green eyes at being referred to as some other person... to being called Smythe.

"True. But I'm pretty damn close."

But apparently Burt hadn't.

"So please, do him a favor," Burt hastened on, "he's tired and he's been through a lot. Give the kid a break. Least for today."

Both men, Yantz and Carson he thinks they're called if he remembers right, blink at each other, communicating silently, and then eventually nod.

Detective Yantz answers, "alright. Get some rest. We'll try again later."

"Thank you," Burt relates firmly. They exit wordlessly and Burt closes the door behind them. He huffs and turns toward Sebastian, an obvious attempt to remain neutral.

"You okay?"

He thinks of just doing what he's always done since the day he awoke; throw out some explicative expressing his conceit with everything... that he was 'fine', that he was 'okay'.

"I dunno," he eventually whispers truthfully.

Burt nods, a wan smile stretching his lips. He removes his baseball cap and runs his hand over the smooth scalp.

"I wanted to talk to you kid. About... well, about the girls. But maybe that can wait until tomorrow."

Seb eyes him curiously, his insides tightening at the same time that he allows his gaze to linger carefully over the other man.

"No. I - I'm okay with... You can ask me."

Burt exhales, plopping onto the nearest seat, the baseball cap twitching in his grip.

"We couldn't find anything on Brittany. She um - that Uncle that you mentioned, he died a few years back. She doesn't have any other relatives to speak of. And anyone related to Santana either moved out of the country or... just didn't... they just didn't claim her."

Sebastian looks away, trying to process yet at the same time, barricade himself. Burt continues, his voice laced with sadness, but a stern strength pushing past Seb's walls.

"We thought, well - we thought that we could be the ones to put them to rest. Bury them properly. But I wanted to talk to you. You were their family. You should have a say."

Sebastian feels the tears leak, but ignores them, his face turned toward the window.

"I have a plot, you know, one near Kurt's mom. I thought maybe they should have it. If you thought that was best."

He's biting his lip, trying to keep the sob as dormant as the feelings that are festering, building to burst. He understood what this was... that Burt was saying that they were important. So much so, that he'd give up his very own position; give them a true claim to family despite being deceased.

Seb's throat is burning with the effort of keeping the emotion at bay.

"N-no."

It's silent then. Until Burt cautiously mutters, "No - you don't want them to take the plot?"

Seb manages a subtle shake of his head.

"They wouldn't want that. They'd... they've spent most of their lives caged. They wouldn't want to be holed up in a dark box, hidden away. They... I think they'd want to be set free. The ocean, or a spot on a hill top. A place that they never were able to see or experience in their life. That's what they'd want."

The quiet returns, both men lost in contemplation momentarily.

"Alright. We'll work on arranging that. In the mean time, get some rest kid," and he replaces the baseball cap over the bald head, twisting it until it's fitted snugly while standing to take his leave. As he pulls the door open, Seb's voice stops him.

"Burt?"

"Yeah, kid?"

"I lo - I... Thank you."

Burt's eyes burn brightly, a grimaced smile escaping across his slightly tanned visage. Sebastian thinks that maybe Burt had understood what he'd meant to say. That his thank you went well beyond acknowledging a simple kind gesture.

"Anytime, son. Sleep. I'll come check on you later. Kurt should be by too, and I'll tell Carole to save you some lasagna. This hospital food is shit. Trust me, I know."

Sebastian smirks, nodding approvingly as the door closes behind probably the only adult man he's ever respected without being prompted by fear.

* * *

He opted to keep the room dark.

He refused to turn on the television. He kept the blinds tightly shut. It was another one of those days where everything inside of him was shrouded in darkness... the kind that consumed you and held fast like a vice grip, squeezing you into submission; and you can barely turn your head let alone bury the thoughts plaguing you.

He had tried to walk around earlier. All he ended up doing is practically crippling himself and onsetting the pain in his torso, the muscles aching where scar tissue was trying to build itself.

The mask felt tight. But without it, the gasps were causing him too much distress. He felt weak, and cold, and everything reminded him of loss.

He hated it.

He remembers though. He recalls exactly why he had pushed himself so hard today of all days.

It was Kurt's graduation from McKinley High today.

He'd wanted to be there. He _needed_ to be there. But yet here he was, alone, and reminded of how he still didn't quite fit in the picture. Whether by the hand of fate, or his stupid broken body.

He drifted in and out of sleep; flustered and dismissive.

But then he felt something pressing against his body.

He blinks his eyes open, cracking them just enough to take in what was causing the shift in the bed.

He smiles weakly.

"What... what are you doing here?" He rasps, breath clouding the plastic of the oxygen mask.

Kurt kisses his cheek, gentle lips grazing the several day old stubble gracing Seb's jawline. He'd been encouraged by the nurses to start shaving himself, a targeted method to start flexing and testing his core muscles, but he opted to ignore the task altogether. His mood having been to sour to find the will power to try as of late.

Kurt was still dressed in the red graduation gown Seb noted.

"Well I knew you couldn't be there. So I figured I'd bring the ceremony to you."

Princess' smile is radiant as he holds up a mini-cam, sliding open the video screen and easing it on top of Seb's chest.

"Princess... You should - you should be with your family. What about Finn? Your friends?"

Kurt eyes him, an expression brimming with a tenderness that Seb could swear was tangible.

"Well, Finn's with Dad and Carole. They took Rachel along with her Dad's out to dinner. Some of the other Glee kid's are having an after party."

"So you had options. You should go be with them. This is your day -"

"Maybe. But in my mind, I only ever had one option."

And with that, Kurt snuggles into his side, hand softly caressing Seb's chest as the video begins playing back the ceremony. Sebastian drapes his arm over Kurt, clinging to him with a strength that was probably born from the kid's presence alone.

"You'll have to excuse the bad angles. Dad was never one with artistic competency. Let's just be glad he actually caught most of it instead of the back of some guy's head, or a passing GTO, or something equally ridiculous."

As they watched the ceremony unfold from Burt's point of view, Kurt commenting every now and again on certain friends of his, or regaling interesting tales of highschool experiences past, Sebastian realized how in love he truly was. Any doubt before, suddenly feeling tremendously absurd.

It was still dark in the room. The only light emanating from the video screen as they lay tangled up in each other. The only audible sound in the space was now just Kurt's muffled laughter and their quiet, rhythmic breathing; the camera moving up and down as if on a makeshift tide.

The last thing he sees is Kurt posing with Finn, Carole and Burt syncing next to them as they line up for pictures, Mercedes apparently offering to hold the video camera for them while they posed for family photographs, flashes of light snapping off screen as they laugh.

They were happy.

Even after everything that had happened... they were still happy, still a family.

Sebastian thinks he can see himself in the picture for once, the thought blooming within him as he drifts off to sleep.

* * *

"You do it."

"Why me? I don't feel like getting the bitch face anymore than you do."

"Please, boy. I ain't worried about that. Plus it doesn't even work on me. I just think they're too cute to wake up. I don't want to be the one to - break their adorable little spell, I guess."

"That was seriously, just... gay."

"This coming from you? Really? Need I remind you about our visit to Scandal's where a certain person kept getting hit on and yes, got a few numbers from several drunken drag queens?"

"What - It's not like I actually called any - it was... Fine. Whatever."

"Thought so."

There was the sound of shuffling, and Sebastian could feel the gentle grip, and subtle shaking of his shoulder.

He smiled behind the mask, the voices having officially drawn him out of his sleep induced state.

"You two would be the worst spies ever," Seb laughs. He opens his eyes and stares up at Dave, who's still gripping his shoulder, peering down at him with a tentative expression. Mercedes was standing back, arms crossed over her chest and smile robust. Both of them were still garbed in familiar red graduation gowns. The video camera had slid between their bodies, a distinct blue of the empty screen burning into his irises through the darkness.

"Dude, the only time I would even pretend to spy is if Pierce Brosnan was involved. I'd follow that dude to the seventh layer of hell. He's that hot. We're gonna turn on the lights. It's like the fucking bat cave in here."

Seb nods, turning to see Kurt stirring at the sudden emergence of sterile light as Mercedes flips the switch.

"What're you two doing here?" Seb inquires.

Mercedes slid the visitor's chair forward and settled into it, while Dave edged by the bed, mirroring her earlier position with his arms crossed over his red clad chest.

"What do you mean? Where else would we go?" Mercedes retorted.

Sebastian quirked his brow. "Um - like, anywhere else."

"Yeah well, me and this one talked," Dave interjected, nodding his head to indicate Mercedes, "and we decided we wanted to celebrate with you."

"It just wouldn't be right if we didn't do this with our two favorite gays," Mercedes added, her smile teasing, yet earnest.

Seb is able to procure the camera, holding it aloft as Kurt turns and mumbles into his neck. He uses his other hand to remove the oxygen mask and address Princess more directly.

"Princess?"

"Mm."

"We got a few extra pairs of eyes in the room."

"Mmm."

"Babe? Wake up."

Kurt groans, thin slits of blue parting open.

"I swear to Gucci it'd better be Taylor Lautner carrying a woven basket full of cinnamon rolls."

"Not exactly," Mercedes quips. "But pretty close. If you squint super hard, Dave can pass for the pastier version. And we brought you an order from Breadstix, ungrateful."

Dave bows forward, bringing up a hefty sized paper bag as proof of Mercedes words.

Kurt smiles, "You guys... You really are something else."

"That we are, Fancy. So I suggest we start. I don't know about you, but I'm freakin' starved."

"Preach Cub Scout. Here, grab that table and we'll set it up."

And together they turned the hospital room into an impromptu dinner party, Mercedes even having gone as far as making them wear fake paper crowns and sashes in celebration.

It was weird.

Weird how things could go from searingly bleak, despondent, sad... to promising, hopeful, blissed... all in the same day.

As he watched the three people laughing, slurping down pasta, smacking each other on the arm in random moments of incredulity... He feels like a part of something. A new something... and it felt plain good.

Dave was red faced, laughing with his head thrown back, eyes crinkled as his pale crown sat askew on his curly head. Sebastian couldn't help but think how genuine he seemed; wondered how many times the kid has been able to have this: a true moment unhindered by social and societal pressure with a group of peers who actually cared about him.

His round face was nearly free of the bruising, the swelling of his eye having dissipated, allowing the hazel orb freedom from the swollen flesh prison it had once been only a few weeks prior.

He said that it didn't ruin him, his experience of being kidnapped and beaten by Simon. He acknowledged being fearful due to the unknown, the unprecedented thought of being subjected to some stranger's mercy, or lack there of. But didn't discuss the potential conclusion of being severely tainted by the occurrence.

Dave recalls the moment he thought that he would be able to escape. Somehow having slipped his confiscated phone from Simon's leather jacket pocket when it was laid out over a stool, but his bound hands made the task of scrolling for names, actually dialing anybody damn near impossible. He had managed to hit the call button and redial the last number he'd called... his Dad's house number.

The screaming came when Simon had discovered Dave's antics. Making quick work of pummeling him with his fists, several blows executed with the butt of his gun. The same one he'd used to execute William Smythe. The same nine millimeter that he spent methodically cleaning on days that he was either brooding or planning.

The rest of the time Simon had kept Dave drugged as a precautionary measure.

Something the teen later said he was grateful for. He couldn't imagine having been sober when he'd overheard the sound of screaming, and metal cutting through flesh and bone as Simon made work of sawing off Aidan's head vigorously in the next room over. At the time, he had been too loaded to decipher what was in reality actually happening. Just knew that it wasn't good by the sound of horrific squelching noises and piercing, garbled screams.

They had been held in an abandoned meat factory, long since foreclosed and empty of product. It was known for being a make out haven for teens willing to drive that far out from town. When he wasn't breathing in steel and dust, Dave had been stuffed unceremoniously, along with the Irishmen at a certain point, into the trunk of the car Simon had stolen.

Sebastian can see it. Dave was haunted. Moments when it would get quiet, and his mind was allowed to manifest pieces of his experience until they assembled into pictures of grotesque, barreling fear...

He would always carry that with him.

Mercedes still talks about them. At first, she would avoid speaking their names, eyeing Sebastian for some sign of mutinous rebellion, or for a total meltdown of heated curses and empty tears.

But then, out of the blue, she seemed ready to cross the threshold. Ready to be honest with herself that Santana and Brittany had indeed died. That the day that they'd been having a girl's day out, was in fact their actual last day. She confessed to Seb once during a surprise visit to the hospital before school started, that she felt stupid and responsible... and for some reason, that maybe it was supposed to be her.

What if she would've been the one waiting outside the bathroom instead of Brittany that day?

Her struggle was evident in the coolness of her brown eyes whenever they would speak about them. Though lately, she's managed to laugh... actual laughter and bouts of mirthful exuberance when thinking of Santana's snarky retorts, and Brittany's wild, fanciful logic.

He knows that she'll get better. But for now, she's still hurting.

Kurt...

Fuck. So many things happen in his heart, in his mind when he thinks of that man.

Princess still has nightmares. But now, he doesn't hide it from Sebastian. He divulges the details and promises that it helps, his honesty and willingness to disclose his subconscious fears is somehow helpful to him.

In moments that are like this one, when he's enjoying others company, and being the Kurt that he first had the privilege of meeting months before, the guilt doesn't thrum as loudly, and Seb thinks that time maybe will serve as some source of healing... that Simon wouldn't be completely wiped clean, but scarred over behind new memories that filter out the sting of the bad.

He's not sure what the future will bring for them all.

Sebastian can't even begin to fathom it right now. But for once, he could see himself by Kurt's side. That they deserved each other because of the love, not the guilt.

And here, right now, that's enough.

* * *

**A/N:** First of all, I know the apologies for the wait in between chappies is getting old, but my time has been crazy limited as far as being able to write anything for a while. But I finally, finally got this chap written and posted. Yay! I am no medical expert by any means (I did some internet research and went from there) but basically I tried to not go into too much detail regarding Seb's injuries, just enough that you get the gist. Also, I don't plan on going into having a trial and a whole bunch of hooplah regarding court intervention and all that. Again, not an expert and I feel like it isn't wholly necessary for the story... it would probably just create the need for another ten chaps lol. Point being, creative liberty here. There definitely will be at least a few more chaps including an Epilogue. There are more loose ends to tie up in order for this thing to be officially wrapped up like a pristine, little xmas present. As always, any questions, PM me, and bless me with some reviews, fav's, any and all of it... I love it all! Thanks for the continued support peeps!


	27. Chapter 27

The water rippled, the rings delicately siphoning outward as he stepped from the Navigator and into a shallow puddle.

He thinks of the days that he was fascinated by the natural occurrence as a kid; kicking through puddles after a harsh rain, drenching his shoes and not caring, because the action somehow made him feel like a normal kid. Even just for a moment, until he made it home to his brother.

He looks up, exhaling a long sigh as Princess saunters up to him, holding out his hand.

"You ready?"

He nods, taking the hand, the urn tucked carefully underneath his other arm as they march up the hill.

He hears the sound of several other car doors slamming shut, and knows without looking behind himself, that the others had arrived and were following in their wake; their mood somber, purposeful.

They had agreed to wait for Sebastian's release from the hospital to finally do this. It had taken a little longer than originally anticipated when in his fourth week of recovery, he displayed signs of contracting an internal infection: a sudden bout of feverishness leaving him clammy, weak, and struggling to breathe.

By the eighth week, the antibiotics had done their job, cleansing his system and leaving him healthier than he'd felt in weeks.

He was granted his release that same week, Dr. Barnes however insisting that he return in a month for a check-up, but that the prognosis was as she put it, 'very promising'.

The pain was expected, since it would take anywhere from six months to a full year for the interior tissue to scar over entirely, and not exude a natural soreness. He also knew that he might not ever be able to breathe without some level of difficulty, the scar tissue alone creating a slight barrier for the oxygen to pass as freely through the pores of his once punctured lung. He was given pain medication, but most days he tried to avoid having to rely on it; nervous about his past issues with addiction.

For now, he could manage walking at a brisk pace without needing to sit down and take long breaks. But running, or any other action requiring a higher level of physical exertion, was too much for him, and may likely continue to be problematic for him throughout his life.

"Man, I haven't been up here since I was a kid. I went a few times to go ice skating with a friend and his parents when I was in elementary school," Finn comments from a few feet back, him and his girlfriend Rachel mirroring Seb and Princess' position, hands clasped tightly as they marched ahead.

"I've never been actually," Rachel exclaims. "My Dads were always weird about me doing things they considered too physically strenuous. They always had this thing with ice skating - something about Nancy Carrigan, and the idea that some other skater spawning too much jealousy over the very likely natural talent I would have as an up and coming figure skater, would culminate into their ultimate fear of me being clubbed into paralysis, never to skate, or perhaps walk again."

"Sometimes, I forget how crazy you actually are," Mercedes states, shaking her head with distinguishable affection. "I'm actually gonna miss not being around your crazy on a daily basis. It's sort of a like an old friend at this point."

"I miss it - skating, I mean," Dave chimes in, cutting off Rachel's sound of indignation at Mercedes' comment. "I used to go nearly everyday during winter. Hockey and all. Helped me forget stuff. Stay focused. It was nice."

The group falls into silence then. Happier memories transforming into the current dismal climate; the task at hand suddenly being visibly reinforced once they near the lake's edge.

Sebastian trudges forward, halting when the water is close enough to slide across the tips of his shoes.

The recent rain had impacted the water's height, the tide reaching higher up on the shore than he recalled the last time he had been at this very spot with Kurt.

He looks back, his eye wandering across the horizon, catching on the bench that they had shared a few months prior. He smiles, thinking of how happy he'd been; content with the eventual realization of his feelings for the brunette, and finds himself looking back over at the group of people standing at his side, huddled together like a wall of support.

"I - um - I'm not that good at, you know - using my words. Not when it comes to something like this anyway."

Kurt reclaims Seb's hand, squeezing it comfortingly. Burt has his arm over Carole's shoulder, a grim expression marring the attempted smile of encouragement the elder Hummel is fleetingly portraying. Carole nods at Seb, her hand absently running over Burt's flannel clad torso as they wait.

Finn is swallowing, Rachel watching him tenderly, patting his arm and leaning into his touch.

Dave looks lost, his eyes staring through Seb, but drawing strength, remaining grounded by the shorter figure winding her arm through his; her brown eyes unmistakably wet, as her full lips tremble with the effort of holding back the emotion humming underneath her rigid stance.

His eyes find Kurt again. He finds strength there.

"But I... You know, If Santana were here, she would tell me to stop being an idiot and try sprouting some balls out of my vagina."

He receives a spatter of chuckling from the group. A sound alight with grave understanding: a concoction of sadness, sympathy, and joy at the knowledge that yeah... Santana would've probably said exactly that.

"Then Brit would pinch her for using the word vagina, because she's always hated it. She used to call it the cave of wonders. I tried to tell her that referring to her um - parts, as a cave wasn't exactly flattering. I think she was too stuck on the 'wonders' part to care though."

He sucks in a breath, the tears warming his eyes. He releases the air shakily, proceeding briskly before he simply can't anymore.

"Everything was wonderous to her. She had this unique way of seeing the world. And it was infectious. And I think... helped us stay alive through everything. Helped us see something beyond all the absolute mind numbing, craptastic shit. I never did understand how she could do that... be so happy after the things he would do to her. After the things we'd see and have to do. But fuck was I thankful... so thankful for her spirit, and wonder, and positivity that just engulfed everything and everybody who was lucky enough to know her."

Kurt's eyes are leaking steadily, but he remains stoic, his slighter hand squeezing Seb's own that much tighter.

"And Santana. When I first met her, she was so... she was me. Both of us were just - lost. Painfully so. Damaged goods really. But we had each other. When we finally opened up, we knew that we had each other. She was my sister. She'll always be my sister. I hope you know that San," he directs at the sky, biting his lip to quell the urge to dispense a suppressed sob.

"Both of you were my - my everything for a long fucking time. And I could stand here and spill all of my guts and feelings. Tell you how much you meant - how you both gave me so many moments worth living for... But I think the only thing left to say, is goodbye. So... goodbye."

He releases Kurt's hand, sloshing several feet forward until he's ankle deep in the cool lake water. He takes another deep breath, and uncaps the urn.

When he tosses their ashes into the air, watching as the wind carries them away and over the still waters, he somehow feels a little lighter. Like the burden stowed away on his consistently slumped shoulders, had lessened; the weight breaking, crumbling until it felt noticably less heavy.

"I know it wasn't the ocean, or their weren't any fern tree's around here. But I hope it was good enough," he whispers into the air; a secret held securely between himself and the memory of his girls.

_**Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,**_  
_**That saved a wretch like me...**_

Sebastian simply stays in the water, hands shoved in his coat pockets as Mercedes' melodious voice chases away his anxiety, spilling over the quiet with a mournful beauty.

_**I once was lost but now am found,**_  
_**Was blind, but now, I see.**_

Suddenly, her voice isn't the only one. Suddenly, it's joined by another equally beautiful tone, and then another... and the sound becomes a sweet arrangement, a shower of voices accompanying her stronger one; a backdrop of allurement bolstering the familiar words.

Seb guessed that kind of effortless harmony was more than possible when you spent your time 'doo wapping' in a school glee club for hours on end. This was probably the first time Sebastian think's he's finally and truly understood the significance of the club. And fuck... was it a beautiful way to get it: Mercedes' voice so powerful yet serene, and the others, a chorus of something that felt - dare he think it... Godly.

_**T'was Grace that taught,**_  
_**my heart to fear...**_

_(Ooooooh, woooh, ooh, ooh, oooh, oooh, ooooh, oooh, wooooh,)_

**_And Grace, my fears relieved..._**

_(Ooooooh, woooh, oooh, ooh, ooh, oooh, woooooh,)_

He looked behind himself then, taking in their faces.

Rachel with her dark eyes knitted closed, eloquently matching Mercedes' careful pitch. Finn was now standing behind her, his tall frame nearly obscuring her as he draped his arms over the lithe figure from behind, lips twisted in a comical 'O' shape as his deep baritone wafted through the air. Dave's eyes were glued to the scenery beyond, his heavy hand clutching to Mercedes' as he remained silent, but attentive. Carole and Burt were still clinging to each other, a wave of awe rooting them to the spot as they listened to their children and their children's dearest friends singing their pain.

And of course, there was Kurt.

He could hear his voice most distinctly above the other's. Even though it was coupled within a group melody, it was clear and perfect, and he couldn't help but conclude as he caught sight of that familiar soft blue aimed directly at him, all for Sebastian.

**_How precious did that Grace appear,_**

_(Ooowaaah, ah, ah, aaah, haaaaa, aaah, aaah, aaaah, )_

**_The hour I first believed._**

_(Ah, aaaah, ah, ah, aaaah, haa, aaaaah,)_

As they sang, Sebastian could feel himself ringing with a promise. Could feel the wind whip across his flesh, pimpling it, and causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand on end. But the cold was inviting, welcoming and much needed as the thought of the girls lingered...

This song didn't break him as it would've seemed. It felt like a renewed promise, the wind sounding suspisciously like a certain sultry voice, caressing, caring, and simply reminding him of being alive. The blessing that these people were to him. The blessing that his chance to just be, actually was...

_**Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,**_  
_**That saved a wretch like me...**_

They all sang together.

Kurt had now joined him in the water, gripping his hand as his blue eyes captured green, holding steadfast, nurturing.

Then the other voices die away, and Mercedes continues unaccompanied.

_**I once was lost but now am found,**_  
_**Was blind, but now, I see**_.

She sung out the last part of the song, her voice silky, stretched into a soft echoe that trailed through the atmosphere until it was swallowed up by nature's quiet. Sebastian smiles deftly at Kurt, and then turned to smile at the others grouped together on the bank.

"Thank you," he states tearfully, several beads slipping from the corner's of his eyes.

The song was haunting. But this time, for a different reason entirely. It felt like a fitting end to a painful chapter for them all.

"I don't know if this is well - um - exactly appropriate to say right now, but I'm - sort of hungry."

Rachel slaps Finn in the arm while glaring daggers.

"Ow! What? I said I wasn't sure. I can't help it. I haven't eaten since breakfast."

"God - so insensitive," and she smacks him again for good measure.

"Ow, okay, okay. I get it. Sorry."

"Actually, I could eat too," seconds Dave, sheepishly.

"You can always eat," Mercedes jests with a quirked eyebrow, swiping at her eyes and allowing her tell tale affectionate smile to take over.

"Well how about it Seb? You up for a bite?" Burt questions, his tone warm and easy going. They all seem to look back at Sebastian simultaneously, waiting for either a confirmation or dismissal.

Seb looks over at Kurt, who's smile is careful, an underlying adoration that was palpable. He then returns his gaze back to the elder Hummel, the answer spilling from his lips with ease.

"Technically, I still haven't got the chance to check out that pancake house you said your friend owned."

Burt's smile wobbles, somehow knowing that this choice had everything to do with the fact that San and Brit would've been working there someday... if things had turned out differently of course. He nods, his baseball cap sitting stiffly in place as he then jerks his head in the direction of their parked cars.

"Alright gang. Let's saddle up and move out."

Kurt nudges Seb's shoulder as they pace back toward Kurt's car.

"Hey... You okay?"

Sebastian grins, a lingering melancholy still present, but less acute.

"Yeah. I think so. And plus your Dad just turned into John Wayne two seconds ago. How can you not smile at that?"

Kurt rolls his eyes, a teasing smirk pulling at the corner of his pink hued lips.

"He always does that. Anytime we need to gather in a group. If we're not wrangling somewhere than we're saddling. You'd think we were hanging out with Clint Eastwood, spittin' out tobbacy and russlin' up some grub after sheerin' sheep, and robbin' stage coaches in some old western," he mimics in a southern drawl.

"I wouldn't mind. You and I could reenact Brokeback Mountain - the good parts," Seb whispers suggestively, followed by a conspiratorial wink.

Kurt blushes, biting his lip and avoiding Seb's searing gaze as they load into the Navigator.

Sebastian is looking forward to pancakes, and definitely looking foward to playing footsies underneath the table. Which in his own mind, sounds super flaming and girly. But that's just another testament to how much his view has changed regarding certain things.

Well, maybe it wouldn't be footsies.

Handsies was more of a favorite past time of his. And damn did he love to relish in the sight of a squirming, uncomfortable Kurt, trying desparately to hide his erection birthed from Seb's merciless ministrations played out underneath the dinner table... Seb's expression completely calm, but hiding a ridiculous sense of elation at being responsible for that type of reaction in his Kurt.

* * *

"When were you gonna tell me?"

Kurt looks up from his position on his bed. His eyes clouding over, coloring with confusion. It had been several weeks since the day at the lake, and this hadn't been the first time that he'd found Kurt sitting in this same position.

"Tell you that we were ordering in? If I knew eating Chinese was going to make you have that kind of reaction, I would've told you before I ordered. I mean there's always other options: Greek, Italian, Mexican-"

"You know what I mean. Don't do that."

His tone was dark, breeding with something just shy of bitter.

"Sorry, you'll have to enlighten me honey-"

"Getting into fuckin' Tisch School of the Arts... not to mention Parson's Kurt? Hell even the Fashion Institute of San Francisco which is like melting over with gay, overachieving, prestige - which only makes it that much worse. When were you gonna say something about it? Or were you even planning to?"

That same photo album, the one that he sometimes caught Kurt rummaging through now and again, was swiftly snapped shut. Several photos sitting precariously on his lap, floating downward until they met the tiled floor.

"I - I guess I wasn't."

Sebastian slumps onto the opposite edge of the bed, leaning forward, the emotion swelling.

"How could you?"

"Are you mad?" Princess queries, a touch of skepticism scouring the surface of the words; a bite to the tonality.

"You knew how that would make me feel."

"Seb, you're mad about this-"

"No. I'm furious, hurt, disappointed... pick a fuckin' word 'cause I don't think 'mad' does it justice personally."

He was afraid of this. Deathly afraid... He never wanted Kurt to hold back. To have to wait, or put his life on hold... to settle for anything less. Not on his account.

Everything had been going so well.

Kurt was set on attending Ohio State, but this was because Seb had thought, as Kurt had alluded, that he hadn't gotten accepted to the other more prestigious of the brand name colleges. Sebastian had already been in the works in regards to applying for state testing, so he could officially earn the education he had missed out on, maybe work toward getting his GED... Hell, maybe even go to college, though for what, he wasn't sure as of yet.

But the idea was there. The desire was burgeoning, marrying itself to the idea. And it all felt possible, made sense.

Now it just felt stupid, naive.

"I thought we weren't gonna do this anymore? You blaming yourself. If I disagree with something, you blame yourself. If I give you any indication that I'm feeling any sort of emotion other than happy, you blame yourself. Hell if I spill a packet of splenda on the counter or burn my own tongue because _my_ coffee was too hot, you'll find a way to make it your fault. This has got to stop, Seb."

He remains silent, trying to hear Kurt. Trying to allow the words to enter his brain past the swirling fog of upset cluttering his mind like an abandoned storage closet.

Princess shifts, scooting nearer to him on the bed, but still far enough that they aren't touching.

"Please look at me. Because I need you to hear this."

Sebastian's biting his lip, hands clasped tightly in front of himself, physically restraining himself from storming away.

"Sebastian. Look. At. Me," Kurt hisses, every bit of warning thriving, easily making the proclomation a demand. He turns, and doesn't pull away when Kurt holds his face steady, forcing him to meet his gaze.

"I shouldn't have kept it from you. Or made it seem like I didn't have other options. I'm sorry for that. But I'm not staying for you, or because you're somehow holding me back. I can study anywhere I want. I even got the chance to prove that if I really wanted to, I could rush off to New York or San Francisco. I'm good enough. If I wanted... But I don't want that. I want _us_. This, here with you, that's what I want. I guess I kept it from you because I knew how you would react. But I don't care where in the world we end up, as long as there's an _us_. And I'll never regret it, or think twice, or wonder... because the only thing that would ever truly break my heart - that I would ever wonder back on with absolute regret, isn't not being able to try out a certain school... it's the idea of not trying with you."

Sebastian feels his stupid heart pounding.

"Princess... Are you sure? 'Cause I don't know if I could live with knowing that you gave up the chance for something really great - that you could hold that against me someday," he breathes.

"Um - yeah," Kurt replies airily, a twinge of sarcasm at the audacity, the very idea that that could ever happen; that it was just plain ridiculous. "Look, if it makes you feel better, I even weighed the pro's and con's... look, I have it here. Commemorated in plastic and everything."

He reaches over, splitting open the photo album to a certain page, a piece of folded notebook paper sitting behind plastic. He settles the opened book onto Seb's lap.

Seb reads it over carefully, with bated breath.

"It literally say's, 'My pro's and con's list for potentially flying the coop'... You're a dork."

"A fashionable one, but yes, my four years in the school glee club would pretty much attest to that."

He breathes out a shaky laugh at some of the items.

"Really... _Cuddling_?"

"What? Cuddling is an essential component to my night time ritual now. Not doing it would be like... not exfoliating. Which is just wrong."

"Parking. You actually put 'parking' on here," he mumbled incredulously. Seb was outright laughing now.

Kurt smacks his arm. "Don't be an ass. I like the independence of driving. I wouldn't need a car in New York and I heard San Francisco is like, insanely compacted and begging for you to just take the trolley most days. It just so happens that I'm proud of my ability to parallel park like a Boss. It reinforces my badassness and I'd quite miss it."

Seb was shaking his head, the laughter bubbling and streaming from his lips like frothy beer sud's sliding down cool glass.

After several minutes of nearly collapsing due to the laughter, and the pain in his core becoming too uncomfortable to continue, Seb settles, looking over the list and noting the more practical, serious items scribed in the neatest combination of loopy, and sharp... a clean penmanship that can only be described as Princess'.

Things like:

**Not paying out of state fees.**

**Free rent.**

**More time to compile fashion material for portfolio.**

...

But then, toward the bottom of the list, it turned into items like:

**Holding Sebastian's hand whenever I want.**

**Having gay coffee dates.**

**Being in LOVE.**

Sebastian blinks up at the last one, Princess' blue gaze carefully trained on him, gauging his reaction.

Finally, he swallows down the lump in his throat, and manages to whisper.

"You forgot having sex in a dewy field of flowery shit... or whatever."

"Hm. That depends. If it's Taylor Lautner, I could categorize it as a 'pro'," he teasingly remarks. "But then the idea of flower buds getting implanted in my ass and the serious exposure to dirt and pesticides kind of put's it in the 'con' category. Less of course, I was being fucked in a meadow of lilac by my guilt stricken lover with the gorgeous meerkatty expression. That's totally a 'pro' in my book."

Sebastian smiles, brushing his lips over Kurt's. It's slow, promising... It's Sebastian's personal summary of his own 'pro's'.

When they pull away, both coming out of their daze, Kurt suddenly inquires, "So... Finn, huh?"

"What?"

"How you found out - about the school thing."

Seb nods in confirmation, chuckling at Kurt's overly dramatic roll of the eyes.

"Yep."

"Gaga, that boy is as simple as he is tall."

"To his credit, he immediately attempted to beat himself with his Xbox control like a fuckin' house elf for the slip. Guess it was his idea of penance. He did apologize to you in advance."

"If it's any consolation, he only found out because he caught me in the act of opening my mail when he failed to announce himself before storming into my bedroom. Anyway, he can start his apology by going to pick up the order."

"I thought it was being delivered?"

"It was. Now it's not."

"Sneaky, sneaky," Seb comments while punctuating his words with a quick peck to Kurt's lips.

Sebastian is distracted by the photo that slips out of the album as he shifts on the bed, attempting to relieve some of the pressure pushing against the areas that are healing on his body.

"W-what - where did you get this?" He questions, voice thin and vulnerable.

"There's that one... and a few more in the back."

Seb cracks the album fully open, then turns the pages until he comes across the last few. The air catches in his throat at the sight, his eyes automatically warming.

Photos of them...

The girls... Brit and San, both in various states of amusement or content... laughing, holding each other, Brit playing that fucking dance, dance... whatever the hell it was called, dancing game... San in the kitchen, licking the knife suggestively with a twinkle of playfulness in her eyes that made Seb's heart stutter.

There were even some of all three of them together. Sebastian sandwiched between them on the couch, rolling his eyes at their obvious eye fucking...

Kurt and Mercedes, even the Cubster was present in a few.

He laughs, the tears spilling as he holds up several for closer inspection.

"When did - when did you even take these?"

"I took some. Mostly when you weren't looking. Mercedes did a lot of them, though. I've always been a fan of making the most of a moment. She understands that."

After getting his fill, Seb eventually turns the pages of the small book, back toward the front. He pauses on a photo of a woman, bursting with a tender, listless love that seemed to arise and seep out of the picture. She was holding a small boy against her chest... a fragile boy with piercing blue eyes, and chestnut hair falling into soft bangs.

"That's her - your mom, right?"

Kurt nods, a smile laced with nostalgia and years of past happiness flashing within the gesture... gorgeous summer days relaxing near the lake bed, nights of blanketed warmth and bed time stories... so many memories that Seb couldn't see, but were currently glowing behind that shade of cool blue.

"Elizabeth. That's where I got my middle name actually. After she died, I begged dad to let me have it. For her, you know? In her memory. I just wanted to - to keep her with me. I wanted so badly for her to always be a part of me."

"Kurt Elizabeth Hummel," Sebastian spells out slowly, as if trying it on for size. "It's perfectly you."

Kurt's smile is warm, lines of wetness coursing over the soft flesh of his lips from the blue eyes above.

"Thank you."

"I love you," Sebastian replies, his own grin complimenting Kurt's.

Princess leans his head on Seb's shoulder, Sebastian holding him, kissing the brunette head softly, and breathing him in.

They failed to notice the slight creaking of the basement steps until a figure was huddled at the bottom, watching their exchange, distracted momentarily from their original task.

She clears her throat causing both of them to look up.

"Sorry to interrupt," said Carole, genuinely sounding remorseful. "But I just got a call for you Sebsatian. They want you to come to the station."

His eyes narrow. "What for? I thought they said they'd mostly tied up the investigation? I thought - I thought it was gonna be over -"

"It isn't that. They wouldn't say what it was exactly. Just that they needed to see you in person. The sooner the better."

Kurt catches his eye, the concern piling like an enormous brick wall.

"I'll drive you if you want," Carole offers.

"I'm going," Kurt states as if challenging anyone to imply otherwise.

"Normally I would say 'yes' Kurt," Carole elicits calmly, "but your Dad's gonna be here soon. I'd think you'd better wait here with Finn."

Princess moved to protest but was immediately cut off.

"Plus somebody's gotta make sure the delivery guy gets tipped. Lord knows that Finn always forgets."

She wasn't saying it, but Kurt seemed to understand. She would never outright command him to do something, but in her own Carole way, she was being protective. This was something that Sebastian needed to handle on his own.

"I'll be fine, Sparkles. I always am."

Kurt huffs, settling back down on the bed in order to reassemble the photo album, starting with several of the photos that had coated the floor.

"I'll have my phone on me," Kurt reports.

Carole nods and gestures for Sebastian to follow her up the stairs. As he ascends, his measured gaze meets Kurt's, and the unspoken words give him the motivation to propel forward and face whatever those douche bag detectives had in store for him now.

* * *

**A/N:** Well hey there readers. Another chappy for you. I have another one in the works that should be up soon enough. I'm thinking within a week. We shall see what time allows. Many thanks and much love to all who have reviewed and continue to faithfully do so. It really makes my day and ignites my muse. There's only a few chaps left before this one comes to a close so be prepared my dears. Let me know what you thought of this chap!


	28. Chapter 28

He felt numb.

There was just... He couldn't even think. How was he supposed to manage words?

"I know it's a lot to take in. You've been through a lot," Detective Yantz supplied, a paling show of sympathy at Sebastian's deadpan expression.

Detective Carson was watching him from across the table, arms tucked across his chest, brown hair slicked off of his face, as his round eyes narrow speculatively.

"So you're saying that after all of this time, Sebastian..."

"Has a mother? Yeah. That's what I'm saying. And we were able to track her down. Her name. Address. All of it," Yantz directs at Carole in answer, stepping closer to the table.

Seb sucks in a breath again, blinking repeatedly in hopes that it would serve to jar his senses, help him form any sort of words.

"And you're absolutely sure?" Carole proceeds.

Carson leans forward from his sitting position.

"As the day is long," the brunette man explains. "We didn't contact her yet. We thought it would be best for Sebastian to do so. At his own discretion of course."

The room falls silent again.

Finally he's able to summon the words...

"My mom. I have a mom," he breathes out.

The corner of Yantz' lip curls into a barely there smirk, his rough hand running absent mindedly over his buzzed head of dirty blonde hair.

"Yeah. You do kid. Now we're not pressuring you. By all means, this is your choice. You're legally an adult. You can do what you want. But in her mind, you've been missing for more than fifteen years. There's no telling how she'll respond."

Carson intervenes, stating solemnly, "but, we think it would be prudent, hell we think it would be morally corrupt to _not_ tell her. She deserves to know that she still has a son after all this time. Don't you think?"

Sebastian is swallowed by his blazing thoughts, unable to find more to say. So many things are buzzing through his mind at lightning speed.

"I - I think he might need some time to mull it over. Maybe a few days -"

"No. I can - I'd like the information now. I want to... I want to meet her."

Carole's eyes are swimming as she reaches out her hand to pat him on the shoulder. She had attributed his silence as a sign of him being too overwhelmed to handle it all now; that maybe it was best for him to take time as she had been suggesting.

Seb hadn't been sure about a lot of things in his life. But this... Not this. He knew exactly what he wanted to do nearly the moment the words, 'you have a mom' were uttered.

He wouldn't have rested until he had taken it upon himself to meet this woman. Even hearing the words out of Simon's mouth hadn't made it real. In his mind, that person parading as his mom was just some tainted, corruption of a parental figure. Some fictional being that wasn't really an actuality. She'd never been there, and there would probably be no loss if she would never be. So he had been willing to leave it at that.

But now, hearing it from them: these suit and tied men with their serious dispositions, looking over and seeing Carole's trusting posture, eyes alight with care...

He knows that this woman, his bio-mom, was actually real. That maybe she had been just as much of a victim as he had.

"She wasn't an easy find, that's for sure. Apparently she was in Florida for a while and just recently moved to Connecticut. City of Bristol. That's in between Hartford and Waterbury. She was going by Smythe for a bit but at some point, must've went back to her maiden name, Allison Edlund - which complicated the search a bit."

Allison Edlund.

His mom's name was Allison. He had a mom. And she was alive.

"We found her because we were able to find you."

Sebastian looked up at Carson, eyes questioning though his mouth remained firmly shut. Carson continued, noting Seb's acquiesce to silence.

"We found you. The real you, I mean. We dug up all of your personal information. Birth certificate, hospital records, when you got your immunizations... everything up until when you were taken. We finally were able to dig up the matching records for a Sebastian William Smythe, who matched your description as a toddler. We used your recent blood samples and pitted them against the old one's from when you were a baby, and found them to be identical. Not to mention they also were a match with your late father's."

"So... I really am Sebastian Smythe? Son of William Smythe and... A-Allison Edlund. That's who I am?"

"We've done a lot of digging and research kid. The evidence doesn't lie. You are Sebastian William Smythe. Born April 18th, 1994, in Pawtucket Rhode Island, in the Pawtucket Community Hospital, to an Allison Smythe. Your dad, William and her were both listed as your biological parents on your birth certificate," Yantz concluded.

For some reason, his eyes fall to the trinket resting underneath his shirt, sitting at the end of a long chain. Even after the knife assault, and everything else in between, he'd still had it with him. Maybe one of the only steady things that he'd had in his life during these last several months of tumultuous, crazy. A solid reminder, and physical representation of what love is, and could be.

"That means I'm not a Taurus."

"What?" Carson blurts.

"April. That would make me an Aries. I've always been an Aries," he breathes, his hand running over the outside of his shirt, the Bull pendant feeling suddenly saturated by the lie; sullied and wrong.

"I thought I met Kurt on my birthday," he comments off handedly, the words flooded with a surging disappointment.

Carole squeezes his shoulder, successfully pulling him out of his reverie. She smiles, a sweet gesture of comfort and fondness.

"That doesn't matter now. You guys met each other. You met all of us. That's the end of it. That's what really matters. So I think we ought to head back. Think things through for a bit. Get some food in our stomachs and we'll figure it all out tomorrow. Or however many days it takes. There's no rush. But remember, whatever you choose to do, we're with you sweetheart. No matter what. Okay?"

He feels it happen, the slow forming grin overtaking his mouth.

Sure he had a biological mother; an Allison Edlund, who had bore him, loved him for his first few years and maybe went through that last many years with the distressing belief that he had been gone... probably dead...

But in a way, he already had a mom.

"Okay," he answers easily and together they bid the detectives farewell before vacating the building, Sebastian running his thumb over the slip of paper carrying the woman's information... his past life, his should've been life, etched in between every letter and number settled on a flat sheet of white.

* * *

He was still gripping the steering wheel, knuckles white and skin taut with the severity of his hold.

It had been a near half an hour of this: Kurt wavering between looking out at the quaint house perched on the grassy knoll, and watching Sebastian; plundering between enacting patience and wanting to say something... anything to reinforce Seb's ability to do this. But Seb can feel it; that Kurt doesn't want to push or make him feel obligated.

It had taken a lot of convincing for Burt and Carole to agree to this: them driving here, just the two of them. But Sebastian had insisted, and of course, Kurt had refused to be left behind. So inevitably, the result was the pair completing the road trip as a sole duo; awkward well wishes and protests to be careful from the adults who allowed them to vacate alone.

"Do you - do you want go back? We don't have to you know."

Sebastian exhales stiffly.

"No. I'm being stupid, I know."

"No you're not. I can only imagine how terrifying this is. It's a really huge deal that anybody would be struggling with -"

"Well this isn't happening to anybody. It's happening to me," he snaps heatedly.

He regrets the words instantly, noting Kurt's furrowed brow, and clenched jaw; a quick stab of hurt tainting his expression.

"I'm sorry Kurt. Really. But, no. We're not going back. We just drove over ten hours to get here. I already told her we were coming. It's done. We're here now - so, yeah. I just need to stop bitchin' up... I just gotta do it."

With that, it appeared that Kurt had come to some sudden decision.

He stepped out of the Navigator, and walked briskly over to the driver's side door pulling it open, and staring up at Sebastian expectantly.

"Well then, if that's the case. Let's do it."

Another shaky release of tension breathed out into the cool country air of the Connecticut backdrop, escapes him.

Sebastian nods slowly, then takes Kurt's hand, barely registering the 'beep' of the Navigator's automatic locking system before they were brambling through the front yard and stepping onto a plain, wood slated porch.

It takes about twenty seconds.

Seb actually counts it. Twenty seconds after finally focusing a swift knock against the door... twenty seconds before his whole world would give way under his feet.

"Hello," she greets, a breathy exclamation that filters through the open door.

She was tall, maybe only a few inches shorter than him. And her eyes... they were shaped like his, the shade a tad lighter, but a warm green that bordered on blue. Her hair flowed just past her shoulders, a blonde color that somehow felt as familiar to him as his own smile.

It took him another ten seconds to realize...

The woman... the one who he'd seen in his dreams on countless occasions; always just out of reach - but somehow, always there. Her features indistinguishable, hazy, but her presence like a burning beacon overshadowing the hurt.

There was no denying... it was her. It had always been her.

Even the vague recollection of the spirit woman who had walked away, hand in hand with Child Seb and Kurt; an odd dream-like memory where he swears he recalls seeing a mixture of gold and red... blurred images of San and Brit beaming with so much life... ocean waters, and a tall, flourishing tree... an embodiment of peace that settled over him into waking.

They both simply stared, drinking each other in. Finally Kurt took it upon himself to break the awkward air. He held out the hand that wasn't tethered in Seb's solid grip.

"Hi. My name is Kurt. And you must be Miss Edlund."

It was as if she'd been suddenly awakened, shaking her head to renew her focus onto the boy who'd spoken; tearing her eyes away from Sebastian.

"Allison. Please. Miss Edlund is reserved for my kids."

There was a sharp sting that sucked up the remaining air from in between the trio. A distinct discomfort that she easily sensed, because then she suddenly burst out, "I mean - my students. I'm a second grade teacher, so I - sometimes I think of them that way. Anyway, won't you come in? I know the drive must've been pretty tiring."

Sebastian glimpses Kurt's timid smile out of his peripheral vision.

"It was long definitely. But speaking from the passenger's point of view, I fell in love with the scenery."

Allison smiled at the comment.

Fuck. She even smiled like him. That same smirk, where the corner of her mouth perked just enough, curling with the right amount of fervor that spoke of a deep-seated delight.

They then traipsed inside, Allison closing the door softly behind them.

* * *

"You were adorable - oh great Gaga, look at those cheeks," Kurt practically cooed.

Allison grinned again, her smile growing wide, matching the pride twinkling in her orbs.

They had taken to looking over some old pictures from when Sebastian was first born, up until he was a young toddler. Well, up until there were no pictures to be taken.

It was strange. Like looking at some other kid, but one who was distantly familiar, like an old acquaintance that you remembered as your childhood neighbor; the one who smiled a lot, was the marker of admiration within the school populace, and went on to continue their charmed life as a lawyer or something equally irritating.

The kind of life that fostered instant and unrelenting jealousy in the kid like Sebastian: the one who'd grown up too fast, had seen too much, and hated everything because he assumed the world hated him just as much as he hated it.

So far, he hadn't said much. He still couldn't fathom that he was here, actually present with his birth mom. It was surreal... and producing so many emotions that speaking just felt improbable, and honestly a taxing notion.

Kurt had done most of the talking, if not all of it.

Allison had been perfectly polite. Both she and Kurt keeping the conversation light, dancing around the heavier, more painful subject matter as they tittered on about anything other than the enormous elephant occupying the space between them.

It was when Kurt had been preening over a photo of Sebastian horse playing in a pile of freshly raked leaves, commenting on Allison's haircut choice showcased in the confines of the picture in which she had been tickling young Sebastian into a fit of hysterics, that he finally found his voice.

"Did he take this picture?"

Allison looks up, her smile fading. "I'm sorry?"

"William. Did he take this picture? I noticed that he wasn't really in any of these. I saw a few mugshots, so I - you know... I know what he looked like."

The careful smirk melted into a grimace, worlds of pain encased in a shadow courses over her face. She chuckles, but it lacks humor, and feels cold.

"William. Bill. Yeah - I think he may have."

They fall silent again. But this time, it was clear that the time for pleasantries that had been masking the truth was no longer veiling their exchange. The niceties had been snapped in half.

"I - I know you have questions. You must have," Allison remarks.

He nods slowly. "I do. But I'm trying to figure out which one is the most important to ask."

There's a pause, and then, "I think I may know what it is," she relates heavily. She then stiffens, taking a sip from her water glass, and then cements her gaze onto her estranged son.

"I looked you know. After everything... I never forgot you. I want you to know that. I tried. For years. I tried until I exhausted myself in every aspect of the word: physically, financially, emotionally... I tried even when the police had all but wrote me off as a nut job - telling me I was holding onto a fantasy. That all the signs had pointed to you being dead, your body probably thrown out like garbage in a river or a buried in a backyard long ago. I tried until my life was nothing but trying... and then one day, I realized that I didn't have a life anymore. I consumed it entirely, burned it up with the ashes of your memory."

The tears glazed over her cheeks, but she let them fall, never breaking eye contact. She sniffled, wiping at her nose with the back of her wrist, then continued, voice thick, and budding with an aunthentic despair... a morbid, devastating sadness that Sebastian quickly recognized, empathized with even.

"One day it hit me. It was odd. Just this sudden - spark of defeat. When I was washing dishes... or something equally trivial. I can't honestly recall now. But it hit me hard. Like somebody had hauled off and knocked the wind out of me with a steel bat. The realization that you - you just weren't coming back. I think it was the tenth year, some time in the Spring. I died a little that day. The next month I moved on, packed up and headed south. Ended up in Florida for a while. I hated the weather. Always raining but humid as hell. I never quite got nature's logic out there. How can you have thunderstorms and still want to peel your skin off at the same time?"

She hiccups a strained laugh, Sebastian finding his mouth stretching into a tight smirk at her attempt to lighten the grave essence of her disclosure.

"I never married. At least not again. I never had any other kids. But teaching always suited me. I had a knack for it. Unfortunately I also always had a knack for picking the wrong men. Bill being the worst offender of all."

"Did you ever love him?"

He doesn't know why he asks, but he does. And now it's out there, sitting in the room with them like a physical presence. She's biting her lip, lost in contemplation in terms of her response. Finally she answers.

"Once. A long time ago. We met when I was in college. I was young, and care free. Dumb might be the better adjective. He was older, dabbled in construction and some other odd job kind of stuff. I fell head over heels for him. The bastard was charming in a dopey way. Funny, sometimes passionate. He had a way about him that felt like he could consume you whole, make you want to do anything for him. And I did. Ended with me in some courthouse marrying him. And a year after that, having you."

He only has eyes for her; can't seem to look away as he waits for her to continue.

"I should've noticed the signs. Or at least, let go of my denial. But I held fast and strong to the love. I ignored the late nights, the drinking, the gambling which always ate through any sort of savings I tried to keep, getting locked up on and off for pointless things: petty burglary and fist fights at the bar... Hell, even the times he used to hit me... I tried to justify it, give him the benefit of the doubt. In the end, it all led to the night he took you. Took you away from me when I fell asleep."

She pauses, the sniffling overtaking her momentarily. She allows Kurt to provide her with the kleenex he must have spotted sitting somewhere in the room. She quietly thanks him, then proceeds, broken, but needing to divulge the story; to purge herself of it.

"I'd kicked him out of the house a few weeks before that. I even started looking into moving so we could start fresh and get away from him. He still had his key though, and he just... waited. He waited like a common sneak thief 'til I was unable to protect you, and took you. I never understood if it was to hurt me, pay me back. That was one of the most agonizing parts of the whole thing. I never really understood his intention. Then by the third week of your disappearance, I got the call that he'd been murdered. Shot in the head like a dog in the street and left for dead. And that you were gone. Like somebody just wanted to wipe your very memory off the face of the earth. And that's what I was left with in the end. Sixteen and a half years... just your pictures, and the echo of your laugh... All I had to myself was the memory of you."

And she broke then, the sobs overtaking her.

He didn't hesitate then. It felt natural, easy, to just take her in his arms. Cradling her, and whispering reassurance as his own tears boiled and descended over his cheeks into her blonde hair.

Kurt was quietly crying to himself, trying to stay strong and give them much needed space; to allow them the comfort of this moment.

They stayed like that for a while. Allison crying herself into a stupor; crying until her posture had fluctuated from completely tense, to some semblance of relaxed as she eventually sat up, dabbing her eyes with tissue and trying to find her smile again.

"I'm sorry about that. I'm beyond a mess right now."

"It's okay. I guess it's kind of good to know I wasn't the only one. But I couldn't imagine going for as many years as you did, knowing that I could've been out there, or having to live with having someone, and then never being sure if they were actually dead. I only knew about the possibilty of even having a mom for a few months, and it's been nothing but... freakin' painful. And that was just for a few months."

"Either way, both of us lost something against our will," she proclaims quietly. "There's no comparison when loss is loss."

Sebastian can't help when all of the worst memories, everything that ever darkened his spirit and reinforced his sense of worthlessness, came rushing forward.

"The guy who kidnapped me - Simon, he told me that Bill did it - brought me along, so that maybe Simon might feel sorry him and let him go. Guess Bill owed these guys - the Irish Mafia or whatever - a lot of money, and had a hit out on him because of it. Simon - he didn't let him go though of course. And he ended up taking me as a bonus."

"You - you were always with him? All this time?"

Sebastian nods, feeling the shame overtake him; unable to meet her eyes as he turns away from her, facing forward and fixating on the tawny colored carpet.

"Yeah. The whole time. He kept me - raised me actually. I always thought he was my brother. That's what he made me think anyway. I never knew - I had no idea you even existed. I spent my entire life being somebody named Sebastian Kelly."

"And he just - kept you? Like that? Lived with you as if you were some happy little family?"

God... If only it were that easy. He feels himself squirming, growing intensely anxious. He knew it was going to come to this, telling her about the life he'd led. But now that the time was here, he wasn't sure if he could go through with it.

The feel of a familiar hand intertwining with his brings his gaze upward.

Kurt is nodding at him, the pressure of his hand signalling a bout of encouragement that Sebastian without realizing it, desparately needed.

He smiles his thanks, and lets the words come.

"I - um, I was... My life was never normal, or anywhere remotely close to happy. I was always on the run. I never went to school formally. And by the time I was deemed the right age... I... I can't Kurt," he blusters, searching for a sign of reprieve; that Princess would agree that he could avoid telling her the truth, give him the permission to just leave it be.

"You don't have to. Not now... But I think that Allison... I think that your _Mom_, may want to know. I think it'll help you guys... maybe start finding some closure."

Sebastian swallows down the emotion, eyes blurring with tears. He exhales, gives a subtle nod, and then allows his eyes to finally meet hers again.

"Simon used me. When he felt like I was of age. I - um... p-prostituted for him. Mostly men. Sometimes women. He also... _He_ would, you know - with me sometimes. Shit, I'm probably so disgusting to you right now."

"Wha - why would you think that? I could never - no. No baby. I don't think that at all," she concludes evenly, running her hand over his arm as another measure of reassurance. It was killing her - very much so, this information, but she was straining with all of her will power against breaking - trying to be strong for him; to return the favor for him. He could see that, and was inexplicably grateful.

"So - um - is Kurt - were you also -"

"Oh. No. No ma'am. I-I wasn't - no," Princess trails off awkwardly.

"Kurt had nothing to do with that," Seb supplies with conviction. "He actually saved me from it. Him and his family. They took in both me and the two other girls Simon had working for him. The girls... they were my family through everything. But um - well... yeah."

That story would have to be for a different time.

"I see. Did you always - um - know about yourself? Or do you think living the life that you led had something to do with it?"

At first Sebastian was confused, but when she settled her gaze on he and Kurt's clasped hands, he understood instantaneously. The question was void of any prejudice; a simple, yet firm curiousity laced within the context.

"Oh. That. I've always known. When I really think about it. Even when I was really little, before any of the other stuff came into play. I used to have crushes on the most random people. That dude Steve from Blues Clues, and like - two or more of the Power Rangers, interchangeably of course, depending on the season. I realized when I wasn't ever poppin' a boner over the Pink Ranger, that maybe it wasn't just a faze."

"Sebastian!" Kurt chides.

But Allison... she's actually laughing. Her laugh, it felt perfectly akin to his own, which further solidified his relationship to this woman.

He's chuckling too, her laugh proving too infectious.

"Being gay didn't happen 'cause of the hookin' to answer your question. I think that was something innately there, no matter if I'd been - you know - raised with you or with a pack of wolves."

She continues to laugh, if anything harder, with more abandon. Kurt's joined in now. All of them in fits of complete joviality.

"Well hell, I have eyes. I'd go gay too if I were raised by a pack of wolves that happened to have that Taylor Lautner kid in it. What a slice right?"

Kurt's eyes go wide at her comment, his laughter entering a level of squeal like proportion at the coincidental statement.

"Oh we are so gonna be best friends," Kurt manages to remark between his laughter, Seb simply rolling his eyes, but feeling nothing but completely happy at the display.

* * *

"Wait, wait, wait... okay, now move to your left. Yeah, you got it! And again... good now step back."

Hours had past since their arrival in Connecticut.

Lifetimes somehow squeezed into the mortal imaginings of time. They had spent the entire day learning each other, getting comfortable, finding a long last balance; basically bunching over fifteen years into minutes.

This day had been better than he could've ever dared to imagine. Mostly because he had never been able to really imagine it before.

Allison was screeching from the couch, laughing while balancing a glass of wine in her hand.

Sebastian was watching his feet, trying his best not to step on Princess' as Allison attempted to instruct them in the art of the waltz.

Kurt was giggling; cheeks tinted red from his own intake of wine as he teasingly bit his lip, and allowed Sebastian to lead him.

"Honey, I'm sorry but you should seriously just let me lead," Kurt babbles as Sebastian turns too sharply, once again throwing them both off balance.

"Thanks for the encouragement Hummel. Sorry that not everybody spent their days hopping around a stage in glittery outfits doing the macarena as a past time."

Kurt smacks him on the shoulder while Sebastian mock pouts, a burst of laughter quickly following afterward which was more than likely prompted by his own consumption of red wine.

It turns out that Allison is quite the fan of the old crooner types: Jazz legends and sultry troubadours with their tranquil voices, rivaling the sound of a perfect lullaby.

There had been several Sinatra songs that had wrung out in the atmosphere, savvy and mellow. Some Ella Fitzgerald and the like. But after the last selection, there was a song that seemed to change something in the air; the record player emitting a tune that radiated a welcome ache.

It was the moment that Kurt was ducking his head against Seb's shoulder in fits of laughter, that Allison's sudden bark of approval successfully brought them out of their daze.

"God this is my favorite. The King always just - does something to me."

Sebastian's eyebrow lifts curiously.

"What like Elvis?"

She shakes her head, playing at disappointment. "You have so much to learn my dear. Nat. As in Nat King Cole. Who I like to refer to as Sir Nat for all of his genius."

Both boys slow into a stop, listening carefully as the piano filtered into a euphony of velvet; the song slowly entering its beginning.

**_I love you for sentimental reasons_**  
**_I hope you do believe me_**  
**_I'll give you my heart_**

Kurt smiles, the giddiness diminishing into a sincere expression.

"Want to try this again Meerkat?"

Seb grins back, a tender serenity creeping over him.

"As long as I don't actually move my feet, I think we'll manage."

_**I love you and you alone were meant for me**_  
_**Please give your loving heart to me**_  
_**And say we'll never part**_

Allison is leaning back into the couch, her wine glass gripped precariously; her eyes welling with a brightness that caught the glow from the hearth, the fire smoldering across the room in the fireplace as the swirling orbs remain trained on the pair swaying together.

_**I think of you every morning**_  
_**Dream of you every night**_  
_**Darling, I'm never lonely**_  
_**Whenever you are in sight**_

They'd completely abandoned their efforts to actually ballroom dance at this point, opting to lose themselves in each other as they barely shift in place. Kurt with his head bowed on Seb's shoulder, arms wrapped around his neck, and Sebastian's cheek pressed against the sweet smelling brunette strands, hands cinched along Princess' waist.

_**I love you for sentimental reasons**_  
_**I hope you do believe me**_  
_**I've given you my heart**_

The muscial interlude pulses through the space; a guitar becoming more prominent as it dances along with the piano.

Sebastian feels like he's literally on a cloud. Had to be really...

Because nothing had ever felt like this before. An interesting notion coming from a man who'd spent his childhood as a slave to sexual fantasy and spoil. This moment - this was an act of intimacy that ground into his very soul. Something as simple as an impromptu dance, the feel of holding each other, the knowledge that his biological mom - his flesh and blood _mother_ - was there watching it unfold with a soft smile... there were no words for it really.

_**I love you for sentimental reasons**_  
_**I hope you do believe me**_  
_**I've given you my heart**_

It takes them a moment to realize that the record has come to a stop; the sound of static air fluidly coating the space as the record churns, the needle on the record player failing to produce any further melody but for the static.

Kurt tilts his head up just as Sebastian leans back.

They're not smiling. This moment was charged with feelings that a smile couldn't justify. When their eyes meet, they're officially lost to their surroundings - lost in an embrace encompassing just the two of them.

They bring their lips together; a slow, careful press that seemed to unburden their hearts ever so slightly. Once they pull apart, Sebastian registers that Allison is now standing over the record player, her hands clutching the edges of the side table it's sitting on. She's already lifted the needle away, her wine glass standing proudly next to the square shaped player.

"I must've listened to that song thousands upon thousands of times. Some months, it would be daily. Over and over again. It sort of became yours and mine. The song that still tethered us together no matter where you were. Even if it was in death."

He could hear the distinct sound of sniffling as she stared out the window into the night. Her confession streaming from pursed lips like a long awaited prayer.

Sebastian and Kurt had released each other, side by side as they stood uncertainly; listening, waiting.

"I just... I never thought that I would ever get to see... what I just saw, to this song," she mumbles through tears. She turns to face them, face blotchy and soft eye's raining liquid fire.

"I never thought that I'd be here with you, actually seeing your face, hearing your laugh, getting to listen to it together."

And she dissolves into quiet sobs.

It takes seconds for him to be hugging her. It takes another minute to realize that she smells like home.

Another few hours later, they're all passed out throughout the living room. Makeshift bed's made of linen sheets and throw pillows tangled over their bodies.

They had talked, laughed, cried...

They had bared their souls in a sense. So when he and Kurt packed up after another day of languid exchanges, random board games, fits of mirth coupled with music, wine, and honest revelation that left his heart swollen, Sebastian allowed Kurt to drive them back, feeling for the first time in his whole entire existence that he would always have a home somewhere - one that could be considered his own home, one that wasn't borrowed or given from pity - no matter where he ended up.

* * *

**A/N:** So Seb got to meet his mom. And I'm wondering if some of you were surprised to learn that the 'dream woman' Seb always saw in his dreams and in mind heaven, actually wasn't Kurt's mom, but his very own mom. This one was leeeengthy but I really loved writing it. It felt good to be good to Sebastian for once.

Okay, I also felt it my duty and privilege to give a shout out to **SciFiGeek14** for creating an amazing piece of fanart for this fic. You can see it at SciFi's tumblr page, **chris my disney prince . tumblr . post/45973710016/fanart-for-the-kurtbastian-fanfic-cheap-trick**, (_I had to separate the words cause the link keeps disappearing so when you search, just splice it back together_) if you're interested, cause fuck was I impressed and honored and just - yeah. Thanks so much again for that buddy! That alone really pushed me to get writing, it was so inspiring. And the last bout of reviews kick started my ass and definitely aided in feeding the muse monster which resulted in this chap getting done way sooner. Thanks you guys and keep, em' coming! They really do get me going.

Also, **Nat King Cole** is the shit, and the song which of course isn't mine, **'I Love You For Sentimental Reasons,'** is a masterful bit of musical awesome that I felt fit the scene. Hopefully anyway. If you get the chance you should give it a listen. It's short but so sweet. Just a bit left of this marathon of a story folks.


	29. Chapter 29

Half a year later, he smiled to himself at the physical irony staining his hands.

It wasn't lubricant meant for slickening human orifices for fucking. Nor was it some random John's semen, spilling between his fingertips and blemishing his self worth.

He grinned at the black smudges, marveling at the grease coloring his tanned skin. Every now and again, like now, it still baffled him how much had changed over time. The oily residue becoming familiar, and serving as a constant reminder of renewed life; his second chance.

As he stood, a silent smile cracking his mouth, he wiped his hands off on his work rag, and began trekking through the work garage back into the front office area.

"Alright there Perc. Luckily you got it in when you did. Your timing belt was close to snappin' on ya. But I replaced it so it should be..."

He pauses upon meeting careful gray eyes.

"Good," he concludes, arching his eyebrow at the individual currently meeting his gaze.

"Didn't think I'd be seeing you again. What d'you do with my customer?" Seb drawls snarkily.

"He's outside. Smoke break. Thought you'd be happy to see me?"

"Not particularly."

"Ouch. That one hurt."

"Not as much as seeing you does, trust me. Where's your shadow anyway?"

The blonde man laughs, brushing his fingertips over the unfamiliar mustache now adorning his upper lip.

"Carson? Grabbing a pecan pie at some dive down the block."

Sebastian tosses the rag in the corner and leans against the wall, arms crossing defensively.

"Yeah. 'Cause God forbid you guys actually do work when you're supposed to be working. So what can I do for you Yantz? And if it ain't about tires, I don't think I can help you."

Yantz smirks in response to this none too subtle warning.

"This isn't about what you can do for me, Sebastian."

Seb's eyes narrow. The last time he'd encountered this man, his entire world had been flip flopped with a single sentence. In retrospect, he couldn't help but associate this face with the fear of life altering, painful discovery, both good and bad. Apprehension being an automatic occurrence regardless of the potential news.

"I find that hard to believe."

Yantz chuckles, running his hand over his shorn blonde locks.

"Maybe so. But I just came to deliver this," and he pulls a rather thick looking tome out of the inner pocket of his coat lining.

Sebastian feels the air freeze in his lungs. He knew that book. He knew it well.

The gold lettering was faded and discolored; the brown leather worn with age, threadbare and tattered on the corners. But despite its wear and tear, it still reeked of his past life.

"Where the hell did you get that?" He questions with a thin voice underlaid with both curiousity and disgust.

Yantz gauges Sebastian with a clear look of scrutiny, as if he's some god damn two thousand piece puzzle waiting to be fixed together.

"Overlooked it," he pronounced smoothly. "Up in that old meat factory back when your um - Simon, was holding your friend and those Irishmen captive. Guess he must've kept it on himself, then left it there."

"And you thought I'd want it?" Sebastian states coolly.

"Oddly enough - yeah, I did. Here," and he holds it out for Sebastian to take.

He feels the disdain building as he read over the title.

**The Holy Bible**

Last he'd seen that exact book, Dave Karofsky had wielded it as a weapon against Simon, practically knocking him cold with it.

"It was _his_. Not mine."

"I figured. But the way I see it, it never hurts to have one on hand. And hell, in all honesty, I don't care if you decide to bury it in the deepest pit of the earth never to look at it again. I just thought you should have the choice. If you wanted it anyway."

Sebastian swallows, green eyes skeptical as they rove between that damn book and the reserved expression of the other man. He huffs and takes it from the outstretched hand.

"Thanks."

"Welcome. God, I didn't know you could actually be mannerable. It really suits you."

"So I've heard."

"How's your Mom?" Yantz inquires somewhat out of left field.

Sebastian is briefly distracted from the Bible, catching Yantz' eye momentarily before he relents, answering while staring back at the book, a seemingly absent minded disposition present as he avoids what he presumes to be a judgemental glare.

"She's good. We've been talking almost everyday on the phone. She's making plans to come visit maybe at the end of next month so see she can meet Carole and Burt face to face. Get a glimpse of the Lima life in all of its glory."

"That's really great. And Kurt?"

Sebastian looks up then, an inquisitive arch of his brow accompanying the gradually forming smirk.

"Since when did you become so interested in my love life?"

"Since you discovered manners."

Seb chuckles at this admission, feeling the tension dissipating.

"Right. Really good. He finished his first semester at OSU and is working on knocking out his second. He's planning to take some summer courses too, and once he gets enough credits, he's looking into transferring. New York, maybe LA. He stands a pretty good chance since he'd already been accepted into some of the top fashion schools before so... yeah, he's good."

Sebastian can see that Yantz is holding back; that he wants to comment on what Sebastian disclosed about Kurt. Somehow he knew the exact question that was left unsaid: where was Sebastian fitting into that wonderfully sussed out equation of happy school and life prospects? Thankfully the nosy bastard kept that brand of curiousity to himself.

"Glad to hear it. Heard your friend - Carole's son - Finn? Heard he was in the army? It's a good gig. Respectable. I served as a marine myself. One of the best things I've ever done."

"Okay stalker," Sebastian quips, causing Yantz to chortle in response. Yantz then inhales deeply to regain his composure and trains his gray orbs onto Sebastian with diligence.

"And you?"

"What about me?"

"I see that you've been working."

"Yeah well, I like it alright. Keeps me honest anyway."

Yantz's expression becomes alight with a mixture of sympathetic regard and twinge of what seemed to be pride. His smirk sliding into a genuine smile.

"Honest is good. Anyway, I'm uh - glad you and your's are doing well. Honestly. Take care of yourself kid."

As Yantz turns to leave, he suddenly pauses, then briskly retraces his steps.

"Oh and I almost forgot," and he plunks another book onto the checkout counter; this one adorning that freshly pressed crispness that symbolized a publicated work that was considerably brand new. "Another one I figured should be yours."

Sebastian gingerly plucks up the book, an easy sense of awe quickly developing that he immediately attempts to obscure behind an air of nonchalance.

"This isn't really disproving my theory about you being a stalker."

Yantz hearty laugh escapes, bouncing off the tiled floor of the lobby space.

"I recall you saying something about it. One of the interviews when you told us about your time with Simon. Sounded important so, just another thing I did some figuring about."

This time when Yantz turned and marched briskly toward the entrance door of Burt Hummel's Tire Shop, Sebastian's voice was the factor acting as the direct barrier to his escape.

"Hey Yantz!"

He looks over his shoulder, hand still splayed across the glass of the door as he holds it open to leave.

"Shave off that mustache. You look like a fuckin' seventies pornstar who probably has gross fro pubes."

They share a final smile before the door closes behind him, leaving Sebastian to wonder about how wrong a person can be about a first impression.

He shakes his head as he looks over the new copy of _'Where the Red Fern Grows'_, a whisper of a smile tracing his lips.

Another few minutes later, after he'd already sent Percy on his way, the guy beaming from ear to ear as a result of the discounted price he'd paid for his worn timing belt, Burt Hummel pushes open the door.

"Hey."

"Hey Burt."

He traipses behind the counter, eyeing Sebastian warily. "I thought I just saw that detective leaving out of here."

"You did."

"What did he want?"

Sebastian pauses, thinking to himself, then utters, "I guess to say goodbye."

Burt looks slightly confused, but then seems to shrug it off, as if deciding it best to simply accept the vague explanation.

"Right. Well, that's cool. Hey I got you a sandwhich. I know you haven't taken your lunch break yet."

"Thanks, man."

Burt hands over the brown paper bag likely housing a plain turkey and a bag of chips. As he moves to re-enter the door to the garage, he pats Seb on the shoulder, a probable gesture of affection and reassurance, then disappears.

It turns out that Seb had found his niche with working on cars. Took to it like a fish in water really. Burt had thrown himself into teaching Sebastian everything he knew, and Seb pushed himself daily for months, finding comfort in the labor of it all. Some days they worked silently, side by side, no need to really speak as they churned out repair after repair. Other days they spent talking for hours, laughing and comparing notes.

He learned an honest trade. And he got the chance to still focus on regaining what he'd lost regarding his lack of a formal education, applying like mad and taking every necessary state qualifying test to credit himself accordingly. He was on the cusp of being able to earn his GED, and start thinking of University life. If he wanted to pursue it of course.

And once again, he was full of gratitude for Burt Hummel as he pulled open his lunch bag, and cracked open the new copy of his favorite book, all of those busy thoughts dwindling as he began to read, tearing into his sandwhich.

* * *

It happened on a lighter day at the garage; a Monday maybe, where their normal traffic of customers seemed nonexistent.

After painstaking contemplation, he finally caved and re-opened that damn book: the Bible that had once belonged exclusively to Simon.

The first time he felt tempted enough, he managed to crack it open, see Simon's stupid name etched on the inside cover, then slammed it shut, kicking it across the room only to leave it there for several days untouched.

The second time, he was alone in Kurt's bedroom chancing another glance at the thing, wondering what people like Mercedes who were faithfully religious could actually find in it that was so utterly enthralling. After fifteen minutes of searching in hopes of finding some miraculous answer to life or something similar, and being left in a raw and unsurprising state of disappointment, he closed it with a huff and stored it away in the bedside table drawer.

The third time, he noticed that Simon had certain passages and Psalms that he apparently favored judging by the way specific pages displayed signs of more deterioration and wear than others. Not to mention the constant sight of highlighter glossing over various passages. And almost against his will, he felt drawn to reading them over, feeling a long lost connection to the thoughts of the man he had never really known. He spent hours reading, not even realizing where the day went.

The sixth time, today, in the garage, on a bleak Monday afternoon, was when it finally dawned on him.

"Holy fuck."

His breathing feels more labored as he turns page after page, connecting something that he'd missed all of those times before. Something that suddenly seemed as obvious as the title itself.

There was a code. Certain numbers highlighted in a certain order. Certain letters also colored over with a particular color.

When he pieced it together, his eyes wide with anticipation as he finished scribbling out the message on a spare piece of notebook paper, he turned the pages until his eyes landed on the back of the inside cover.

_**Use it wisely.**_

_**- Simon**_

He blinked several times.

Fuck. This was crazy.

But with that thought, he also knew that it was very Simon. And crazy was to be expected; a second nature really. The few times he had glimpsed over that final message, he had just attributed it to Simon leaving himself a cryptic note; a reminder to try to be a better person with the Bible as his guiding tool.

That shit had failed epicly.

But he realizes now, all of this time later... the message had never been written for Simon.

Leaving it in code, making it into a riddle... it just seemed to be something that anyone associated with the Irish Mafia was prone to do apparently. A cult rooted in greed and a nefarious intent, that liked to twist the words of God to feed their own sick ambitions of power and grandiour; act out their vengeance, and fuel their misguided and depraved sense of control.

It was that.

But maybe... It was also something else.

Maybe it was Simon's way of allowing the message to reach Seb without being detected by the authorities. Taking a risk in the hopes that the book would find its way back to Seb someday. Maybe...

He willed his mind to slow its pace, the thoughts whirring madly like the blades of a ceiling fan.

"Hey you."

Sebastian startles at the voice, shoveling the paper inside the Bible and shutting it quickly.

Suddenly all of the thoughts stop. Just like that.

"What are you doing here?" He breathes, beaming at the man standing in the doorway.

"Visiting my hard working, very sexy, grease monkey of a man. What's it look like?"

"I thought you had a class today?"

Kurt lets his messenger bag fall to the floor and slinks forward, wrapping his arms around Seb's neck.

"I did. Got cancelled. So here I am."

He punctuates this thought with a soft peck. Which turns into another one. Which eases into a languid, deep kiss.

"Get a room," Burt grumbles from the background as he walks past the door to the work garage, causing both men to smile, and slowly relinquish the embrace. Kurt's arms lazily unravel from around Seb's shoulders; his hand instead tangling into Seb's own as they continue admiring each other with a fixed stare.

"Hi to you too, Dad," Kurt replies, an amused sarcasm imprinted in the tone.

"Your car is seriously gonna die. Especially when you keep driving out here on the drop of a dime so often, Princess. Don't forget that you have a dorm room."

Kurt's grin elongates, exuding a transparent slyness.

"Not to mention a room mate that thinks rock collecting is the equivalent of a good time. Rocks. Seriously. But anyway you let me worry about my car. You just worry about asking my dad if you can leave early."

"Go!" Burt calls out from somewhere inside the garage.

Kurt giggles while Sebastian rolls his eyes, a faint blush crawling across his cheeks.

"You sure Burt?" Seb barks while maintaining an eyeful of the beautiful man still gripping his hand.

"Very. Now go before I give you an extra shift."

"Thanks dad," Kurt declares.

"Yeah, yeah. Just have fun!"

"Alright. We'll see you at the house later on Burt," Sebastian adds.

"Why are you still here talking to me?" His gruff voice rings out, echoing from the garage innards and wandering like a heavy mist into the lobby area.

"Going," Seb announces before allowing Kurt to tug him forward by the hand. He hurriedly scoops up both books and exits hand in hand with the love of his life.

"Maybe we should stop by the house so I can change," Seb remarks as they make their way across the parking lot toward Kurt's Navigator.

Kurt stops, surveying the tall frame carefully with a visceral glare.

"Nah. Leave on the monkey suit. It so fucking turns me on," he whispers in a seductive tone that shoots straight through to Seb's cock.

He can only manage a subtle nod before being dragged forward to their awaiting chariot, his recent discovery of some mysterious code arranged like a strange spell within biblical content long forgotten.

* * *

"Fuck! Ughn! Yeah - Seb... please."

They had barely made it around the corner before Kurt was blowing Seb in the car. The latter finally convincing Kurt to stop his ministrations long enough for them to be anywhere but near the shop, and actually immobile so he didn't cum while simultaneously running into a tree.

They ended up near their lake, Sebastian having drove the Navigator like a bat and hell were destined to part ways.

That's what Seb learned to call it - the lake. It was dubbed, 'Their lake'. The girls lake.

It had inadvertantly been christened as such since it had served as their final resting place of sorts.

And instead of being guilt stricken, or potentially creeped out by his current act of pounding into his boyfriend on the place that felt sort of sacred, he smiled to himself at the thumbs up and hoots of approval the two women would have most definitely and ironically been throwing out at the display: Santana no doubt commenting on his technique with rather crude explicatives, and Brittany clapping her hands at her favorite boys sweating over each other and making what she deemed, 'sweet boy love'.

Kurt was shuddering over him, his naked, slickened skin, heated, and everywhere as he rode Sebastian with abandon.

They were splayed out across the Navigator's back seat, Seb's hands clawing into Kurt's waist, holding him in place as Kurt hammered against Sebastian in a rhythmic motion that could easily be mistaken for punishment in its harsh power; his pale fingers threaded through Seb's hair like a life line as he rode him.

The sounds of heated flesh slapping, soft curses, and amplified moaning building within the space like their warm breath and physical exertion fogging the windows.

"I've m-missed you. Oh, God! Fuck me!"

"Me too baby. Every - every fuckin' day. Fuck. So good. Don't stop baby," Sebastian mumbles with difficulty, his face pressed into Kurt's shoulder, feeling his body starting to coil with that familiar promise of release.

Kurt was working him, his own erection rutting across Seb's stomach with each bob of his body, up and down and so tight and just... fuck, Sebastian wasn't going to last much longer.

It had been slow at first. A methodical exchange in which they looked into each others eyes, whispered promises brimming with absolute love; Kurt slowly easing himself atop Sebastian's cock, maintaining searing eye contact as he began to grind upwards in an almost teasing manner, accented by Kurt's devious little smirk.

Now their flesh rapped with lustful thrusting, Kurt crying out as he fucked down on his lover, head thrown back in the throes of passion. Sebastian biting onto Kurt's red flushed skin, sucking a mark of ownership into the shoulder, licking a path across the exposed neck.

"Ah - ah, yeah! Perfect. Mmm fuck me, Seb! Make me yours. Make me yours."

When Seb's hand weaved its way into Kurt's batch of brunette hair, tugging back on the locks and causing the lithe man's head to jerk back, Sebastian had to bite his lip at the sight of his lover coming undone on top of him, cum spurting from the flushed pink cock onto Seb's stomach as his Princess wailed unlike any royalty ever heard.

As Kurt's nearly maniacal drilling gave way to a shuddering, spastic gesticulation, Seb started to lose it, thrusting his hips upwards to maintain the sweet friction bringing him closer.

He pumped, quicker, harder. Kurt starting to still as he had rode out his orgasm, arms hanging over the back seat past Sebastian's head as if trapping the taller man. He felt Kurt's head shift, his warm breath tickling the side of Sebastian's face, and throat.

"I'm yours Sebastian. I'm yours. I'm yours," Kurt repeated in a heated whisper, punctuating each formation of the sentence with a nibble, teething and trailing his kiss swollen lips over the throat.

"Now cum for me baby. Cum inside me."

"F-fuuuuck!"

Sebastian came hard then, his orgasm ripping through him like a bolt of lightning, shredding through his nerves and overwhelming his every sense.

Kurt was peppering lazy kisses over Sebastian's face, ending with several consecutive pecks over Seb's lips. Sebastian could feel the other man smiling against his mouth as they both came down from their post coital high, sweaty, spent, and full of a love that continued to cause constant refiguring. Things that felt like they should be important paling in comparison when they fucked like they loved, and loved liked they fucked: unrelenting and without looking back.

Neither man moved with the exception of their ragged breathing.

Sebastian's head rested against Kurt's shoulder, while Kurt's face pressed into the crook of his neck.

There was no rush between them, so they stayed. Frozen in their moment of blissed connection.

Eventually Kurt pulled himself up and off of Seb's softening appendage, idly stroking the patches of fir lining Seb's chest with sure fingertips, as he rested his head against the indentation of his shoulder.

Sebastian planted a kiss atop the brunette head, nudging his nose over Kurt's carefully manicured browline, enjoying the feel of him.

"So... rocks, huh?"

Kurt giggles merrily.

"Yep. Rocks."

"Well, you do sort of have that in common."

"And what pray tell, is that exactly?"

"He likes collecting rocks. You like collecting rocks. You know, in your mouth."

Kurt looks up incredulously, swatting Sebastian's chest with a flat palm. Seb smiles broadly in response.

"He probably cleans his rocks. You like to clean rocks. With your tongue. Until they're empty and sperm free."

Another slap causing Seb to verbalize his surrender while chuckling. Seb wasn't in a hurry to rid himself of the condom despite its oozing discomfort and slimy tactility. He was too sated to care at the moment.

It came back; the thoughts of his discovery when the silence dredged on. The words feeling easy as he lazed in the feel of Kurt wrapped up against his body.

"I found something today. Or rather, something that was brought to me a while ago, and I figured something out about it today. Yantz brought it to me a few weeks ago."

"The detective?"

Seb nods, causing Kurt to pull back and look directly into his eyes.

"And? What did he want? I mean - what did you find out?"

"Simon's old Bible. Yantz found it a while back at that old meat plant that Simon had kept Dave and those Irish guys at. He - um, thought I should have it."

"Oh."

It was obvious Kurt wanted to steel himself to say more, but was waiting for Seb to divulge first, to make sense of where this was heading. Seb cleared his throat on cue.

"So, I've had it for a while now and I've looked it over."

"Really? I didn't think you were religious."

"I'm not. But I dunno, I just thought, maybe there was something to it. Maybe something it had that I missed out on, or could benefit from I guess."

Kurt was silent, but Seb could practically feel the scorch of the unsaid words radiating. Kurt had never been religious himself, and had to fight not to scoff at the very notion of organized belief in something that you just couldn't see. He was a realist and a celebrated sceptic. Seb continues before he submits to that thought of simply stopping for Kurt's sake.

"Anyway, I read it over. Not all of it. Just some. But there's something in there Kurt. I mean, something that Simon wanted I think for only me to find."

"What are you talking about? Like a psalm or some other crazy outdated life lesson about hatred that's disguised as love?"

Sebastian shakes his head.

"No. Something else. I found like - a code or something. Certain passages throughout the book, he highlighted in a particular order. An order that when I spelled it out, ended up being an actual message."

Kurt stiffened, huffing out a tense exhale before spearing forward.

"Sebastian. Honey. He's dead. Your brother was a sadistic fucking crazy person, who killed people and destroyed lives. Don't let him do this to you. Don't let that part of you that maybe still loves him get... manipulated from beyond the grave."

He had paused, looking for the right word. 'Manipulated'. Seb didn't blame Kurt for his doubt. His trepidation. But Seb hadn't told him to get his approval. He just wanted to share this, as he did everything with the other man. He wanted to let this be another test of his honesty despite the potential threat of skepticism and words to the contrary.

"Kurt. This isn't him telling me some final threat or some stupid declaration or whatever. It wasn't anything like that. It was just - it looked like an address."

"What?"

"Yeah. An address. It's to this old park a few miles away from the apartment."

"Wha - why there? What do you think it's about?"

"I dunno. But I'm going to find out. And this time, instead of shunning you from going with, I'm asking if you'd like to come with me."

Kurt's blue eyes waver as he pulls away from Sebastian entirely, looking out of the Navigator window at the foliage beyond.

"You don't know what you're asking. This is exactly what he would do. One last thing to bring you some other sort of hurt that will obliterate your very being. And that scares me. You've come so far, love. All of us have. I don't want to invite that devastation back into our lives. I don't think I can."

Sebastian rubs his hand across Kurt's back, Kurt settling his hand over Seb's while still looking outside into the distance.

"I went there with him a few times. I stopped there on the way to meeting him outside some bar. Wanted to stall for a while I guess. He caught me on the swings, smoking a cigarette and just... forgetting. He sat next to me. Squeezed into the one nearest to me, and just swung. We didn't talk. We just kept swinging. We did it again a few weeks later. Same thing. No words. Just swinging. That last time when we left, he put his arm around me and said, "Thanks brother". And that was it. There wasn't anything vile or hurtful about it. Like we both felt like kids for a while. Both of us got to be somewhere else, in a different life together. And for that little while, I had an honest to god brother, and I was happy."

Kurt was watching him now, his grip tightening around Sebastian's hand. The air had shifted inside the car, the silence burgeoning. Finally Kurt spoke.

"So should I make love to you before or after we go?"

Sebastian beamed at the other man, pulling him into a deep kiss. When he leaned away, he stated seriously, "Both, I think."

And they eagerly began kissing, breath melding together as Kurt found himself once again on Seb's lap.

* * *

They arrived an hour later.

It was just past mid-day, the park virtually empty as most of the neighborhood kids were still in school.

As they neared the swing set, Sebastian freezes, thinking back on this same scenario: walking into some unknown spectacle, unarmed and at the mercy of a merciless mind.

He makes to release Kurt's hand before trudging ahead. But just as he loosens his grip, Kurt tightens, sensing what he's trying to do.

"Not gonna happen. We agreed."

Sebastian releases a deep sigh, slightly annoyed at the stubborn nature of his Princess.

"Can't fault me for trying. C'mon," and they step past the swing set just behind a high cluster of bushes.

"I think - I think it might be here."

He looks up at the young oak tree standing across from him. He feels his skin crawl at the sight; his thoughts being wrenched backwards against his will, crosses and red blood and burning wood flashing through his minds eye.

"I can see it. It says the word. The one you wrote out... 'Wisdom'".

And sure enough, that one word that Kurt just described was etched with an erratic hand into the rough hewn wood.

Sebastian knows that he's moving, but doesn't seem to register the feel of his feet doing the physical work, as if he actually glided across those few paces to stand directly in front of that lone word. He looks down at his feet, knowing that whatever was here, was supposedly buried at the foot of this fucking random tree.

He recalls the message again: _**5200,**_ **_Oakdale Park, Treasure swings near and can be found underneath a tree marked by Wisdom._**

Seb pulls out the spade that he'd brought with him and begins to chink away at the soil covered by ill thatched tufts of crabb grass.

He digs and keeps digging until he hears the small shovel clink against something solid. He swallows, looking back at Kurt with wide eyes. Kurt simply nods.

"We're here already," he says, reasoning aloud.

Sebastian forgoes use of the spade, instead barreling through the soil with his bare hands, pulling up chunks of muddy earth and root until he manages to uncover the object that had made the odd clinking noise.

It was a tin box, maybe half the size of a large men's shoe box. He recognized it immediately, his eyes welling up at the sight.

It was a tin box that had once been used to house jewelry: bracelets, ear rings, and a particular watch, delicate, and simple. Santana had gotten the watch for Brittany as a belated birthday gift. Simon of course had taken the watch in a fit of upset when Brit had failed to attain her full nights restitution after being on the beat for hours.

He lost it in a bet. He'd kept the box as a designated weed box, to hold his older stash before eventually relenting and smoking it whenever his other drug supply was unavailable.

"Seb?"

"This was - this was Brit's. I mean, it used to be. Simon took it from her. But it was hers."

"I don't get it. Why would he want you to have that?"

"I - I don't know. It feels like it has something inside. Not too heavy. But it still has some weight to it."

He takes a chance and shakes the box expecting to hear a rattling sound. Nothing is heard.

"Please be careful," Kurt pleads as Sebastian makes to pull up the tin lid.

As he unfastens it, Sebastian's heart beat seems to ice over in his chest.

"Oh dear Gaga... is that - is that what I think it is?" Kurt blusters from behind.

Sebastian is nodding frantically, putting the lid aside and gingerly pulling out the wad of green bills lining the box.

Every single one had the face of Benjamin Franklin showcased on its front.

"Sebastian - there has to be... I don't know, like over a hundred thousand dollars in here? Sweet Prada line! There's freakin' piles."

As Kurt continues to explore the piles, counting through it with round blue eyes, Sebastian notes something white at the bottom of the tin. He pulls it out, and unfolds the small square of lined notebook paper.

_**This is what I took from them. I always kept it with us. Never actually touched it. Saving it for a rainy day I guess. Well, it's pouring out Sebby, and I have a feeling you'll use it with better intentions than anything I would've blown it on.**_

_**- Simon**_

"Holy fuck. Holy fuck," he repeats breathily, completely lost in his shock. "This is it. This is everything that he stole from them. Fuck... It's like - it's like I'm looking at a box full of something. Something so... so valuable. But it's not actually money."

Sebastian feels his eyes fill with moisture. Swallows down the lump that had formed in his throat before he can squeeze any words out into the open.

"It's like I'm staring at my life. Every piece of paper, every bill is like a memory of mine. Just another memory that I lost because of this... this shit. Looking down at it like this... it doesn't look like anything to me, but complete, and utter shit. Crazy right?"

Kurt blinks back tears, but he remains silent, gazing at Sebastian with a sympathetic grimace.

"I mean, there has to be like thousands upon thousands of dollars here. More than I've ever seen in my whole life at one time. I could probably buy a house, a car, anything that's supposed to mean something. But all I see is everything I lost. And I just wanna fuckin' burn it all into fuckin' ash."

The tears descend in quiet streaks over Seb's cheeks.

The irony felt like a fucking piercing hot blade that punctured through his chest and pinned him to the ground.

Here he was, all of this money, free and clear due to the debacle of Simon's death likely being recorded and learned by the Irish Mafia who had no choice really but to chalk up the loss as just another loss to their underground conglomerate that would, and never could be repaid. Lives had been given and taken. By their standards, it would be enough.

But yet, he hated the very sight of it. Because what he saw was his own face, baring down at him with anger. All he could see was David's swollen and bruised visage. Kurt's stiffened and cold frame tucked underneath a hospital gown looking like life would never be colorful again. Mercedes singing with tears streaming down her face in hopes of subsiding at least some of the guilt. Burt crying uncontrollably into Carole's shoulder...

He saw them: the girls.

So many times... So many moments of wanting to quit on life. So many patches of broken or bruised skin. So many fearful and helpless tears shed.

He saw them as clear as the most vivid memory would allow. And he hated the expression of their disappointment the most.

"Do you want to keep it?" Kurt poses.

Sebastian wipes at his eyes, looking up at Kurt seriously.

"I... I - no. I don't want it. That I know for sure."

"It's - it's a lot of money Seb."

"I know. It could be a million dollars for all I care. It's not worth it to me. That money came at a high cost: my life. Not to mention the girls. And for the first time ever, I realize how much that's really worth. And no amount of green can repay that. None. Our lives were worth so much more."

Kurt nods with a shaky smile, the tears cascading as he beckons Seb to stand. Sebastian stands up and hugs the other man with vigorous abandon, holding tightly.

A few minutes of basking in each others embrace, Sebastian then recovers the tin, the money having been replaced inside, and holds out his free hand to Kurt.

"Let's just - let's not worry about it. At least not for now. Let's just get back to the house, eat Carole's cooking, and laugh at your dad's lame jokes. It's something to figure out when the time's right."

Kurt nods, sniffling. "They're not that lame," he mock pouts. Seb's eye brows shoot up toward his hairline, followed by a slight curl of his lip.

Kurt sighs aloud, rolling his eyes at Sebastian's stony bearing.

"Fine. He's delightfully corny at times. There's a difference."

Sebastian's smile widens considerably, tucking Kurt underneath his arm as they make their way back to the Navigator.

* * *

This was the one thing that he'd kept a secret from even Kurt.

The idea had hit him later on that same day. Hard and fast like a freight train.

There was only one person who deserved this; there was really only one person on this planet who was truly owed this money. So there began his journey to restore order.

A week after his containment of the small fortune, he'd set off on researching local private investigators. He'd thought briefly of contacting Yantz or Carson even... But this was something that he knew needed to be kept from any potentially doubtful or non-objective parties.

He'd used a portion of the cash, the tiny percentage of two grand from the staggeringly insane amount of two hundred and seventy-five thousand dollars, to hire an offbeat large bellied man by the name of Hicks; a retired police lieutenant who served many years as a detective, and had a considerable background in the military. He didn't like to be called by anything else, so 'Hick's' was what he was labeled as within Seb's cell phone contacts.

It was no walk in the park. Not like collecting the money had been.

There had been no solid leads except for whatever vague information Seb could recall from conversations long past. No breaks in the search had came until after three months later, to which Hicks insisted another thousand was necessary as this case had wore down on his resources and required a lot more man hours to crack a lead.

Seb had grudgingly agreed, vowing that this would be the last of the money he would ever use himself, because it wasn't his to flit through.

It had taken eleven months in total.

But Hicks had finally proven his worth the day he'd called Sebastian with the news that he'd successfully found the person who had started to seem as much of an apparition as a fading memory.

Sebastian had taken off time at the garage under the guise of visiting his Mom. Burt didn't question it as these trips had become a more regular occurrence.

When Kurt asked, he said the same lie. He hated doing it, but it was wholly necessary in order to get this done.

The plane trip had been his second one in total, having finally been convinced by Kurt to take a flight when they last visited his mom. He loathed the feeling of it and vowed to make car trips his thing.

But now, secretly smiling to himself at the legitimate forms of identification that he's been able to carry for a few years now, he knows that taking a plane would be the fastest way. He curses Kurt for pretty much always being right, then smiles as he closes his eyes, and prays they don't crash land. Kurt would kill him if they did.

* * *

He had long since removed his jacket.

It was fucking hot.

Like the kind of heat that sweltered and shit.

He ignored the beads of sweat gliding down his neck and dipping past his shirt, his mind set firmly on his destination.

He has no idea how Mercedes deals with this weather being a healthier sized girl, but she's been doing it for just under two years now, and claims to love it in comparison to Ohio's drab shifts of warmth that are few and far between. She was going to school, double majoring in music and theatre, and had apparently never been happier.

The cab driver had been marginally helpful, pointing him in the direction of the apartment complex with a crooked finger before speeding off.

He made his way through an alley, ignoring the stench of urine and the gang tagging adorning the walls, making sure to mind the directions given.

He passed an old pharmacy on the corner. One of those ones that had probably been there for over thirty years and was family run. He took a chance and seated himself on the curb, an attempt to relieve the slow coursing burn that often overtook his scarred lung when he walked at too brisk a pace, for too long a time.

It was then that he glimpsed a vaguely familiar face that floated right past.

He knows that he must look crazy, some strange man staring with wide eyes while squatted on the curb with nothing but a ripped backpack in tow.

But as he stands, he knows that it's her.

She was laughing and carrying on with several other friends, oblivious to him and the rest of the world.

Sebastian felt thankful for that. She didn't seem paranoid and apparently was largely unaware of the terrible things that existed in this world, judging by how easily she laughed and allowed the other girls in her personal space.

She seemed happy. Care free even.

He swallows, and decides to follow, hoping that she doesn't mistake him for a stalker or something worse, and takes off running.

He keeps his distance. Various yards between them, but just enough that she hasn't fully disappaeared from his sight. The trio walks along with that same easy grace, until they reach a specific corner, then the two break away, waving madly and promising to call later, leaving his target to traipse alone the opposite way.

Fuck. That cab driver had been way off base.

This was like blocks out of the way. He ignored the irritation at knowing he probably would've been lost if he hadn't spotted her when he did, and continued to follow in her wake.

Then she suddenly stopped. For a brief moment, it was as if her body stiffened, and then she bent down to work on tying her shoe.

Sebastian recognized that look. She was on to him. He kept walking, hoping that maybe he could find the right words to not freak her out, because truthfully, this was completely insane. Everything about it.

But maybe that was one thing he had learned from Simon. Go crazy, or go home.

As he approached, it was obvious that she wasn't really tying her shoe. As she stands, she has a cell phone in hand and immediately begins to march at a brisk pace.

"Um - excuse me? Miss?"

She ignores him, her pace quickening.

"Miss? I was hoping to ask you something."

"Leave me alone."

Okay. Maybe she wasn't that naive and care free.

"Please, I really need to ask you something."

"Look if you don't leave me alone, I'm calling the cops. I have my finger on the '9' as we speak."

"Well good. You should. You don't know me from a hole in the wall. But I know you."

This seems to spark an interest in her as she slows to a stop. He moves to step forward, but she holds up the phone in warning.

"I'll call. Stay back. How do you know me?"

"Well not_ you_ exactly -"

"Right," and she turns to walk away.

"But I know your sister."

This time she jolts, her feet freezing almost in a violent halt. She's not looking at him, but her voice is cold, monotone.

"You don't know what you're talking about. I don't have a sister."

He wonders briefly if she knows about what happened. But he knows that she can't have. Not when living completely across the country in California. And not when having absolutely no ties to her past.

"You do. Her name's Santana Lopez. And you're her sister... Ava."

The girl turns around at this remark. And fuck if she wasn't Santana's twin. The same dark eyes that tore into your soul. That pouty mouth, and thin build. Her hair had a lighter brown hue, just a few shades shy of her sister's dark mane, and she was maybe a few inches shorter than what he recalled San to be.

But this girl... It was her. No doubt about it.

"My name's Sebastian. And I was one of your sister's closest friends. Can I please talk to you? Only for a minute if you want. That's all I'll need. And I'll never bother you again if you don't want."

Ava stood still, her eyes narrowing even more so. But then she was nodding her head for him to follow.

"But I swear if you try anything, I'll snap off your balls and leave the rest of you for the police. Got it?"

He holds up his hands in surrender.

"I like my balls. A lot. So no worries."

And they ventured down the side walk side by side, Ava stealing side long glances as if waiting for Seb to lunge at her. He smiled to himself, thinking how proud San would be at that. This girl definitely wasn't stupid.

* * *

He was sitting on the steps of the front stoop. Ava insisting that coming inside wasn't happening when her Aunt wasn't home.

She explained that she had been living here with her latest foster mom for the last five and a half years. She had grown fond of calling her, her Aunty. Before that, she had been through several other homes. About three to be exact.

The first was when she was five, right after she'd been split from her sister. They had found a local woman who was willing to take her, but not San, because she didn't do pre-teens or teenagers. Too much hassle. Too little patience. That woman however took a liking to caring for infants and found her time stretched too thin when she took in two to three infants within a few months of each other. Needless to say, Eva was the one deemed to be too much work, and eventually given another placement.

The second family was this weird couple who already had a child of their own. They were big on being vegans and wildly overprotective. Ava never remembered having any friends really at that time. When she had questioned their lifestyle a few too many times, questions composed of simple curiousities such as, 'why can't I go play with the girl across the street?' she was noted as being too defiant and troubled. She had made it only about four months in that house.

The third was an elderly black woman named Corinthia. She was a retired nurse who loved attending church and cooked just for the hell of cooking. She was a mother, and grandmother, but all of her children were spread across the country living their own lives and rarely visited.

Ava had grown to love her most. But Corinthia had ended up suffering a massive heart attack which she had never recovered from. Ava found her lying in bed the next morning, and had been the one to call 911.

Amongst Corinthia's children, there had been one, a daughter named Maurine who had been living in California and didn't have any kids of her own. She wasn't living in squander, but she was definitely living under hand to mouth circumstances. Her heart, as big and wonderful as her mother's had been, couldn't see Ava removed to another stranger after spending such a long time with her mother. So she did the only thing that felt right, she took Ava in as her own, and had been raising her ever since.

Apparently Maurine, Ava's surrogate Aunt, was still at work. She had a gig as a secretary in the DA's office and wasn't due to be home for another few hours at least. The drive alone taking some time as the location was in down town L.A., nearly thirty miles away from where they resided: San Pedro, California. Not to mention the horrendous traffic that she would have to deal with, Ava had explained coolly.

Ava brought him a glass of water which he accepted gratefully.

"I only offered it so there'll be some DNA evidence left over if you try anything."

He snorts into his glass, causing her to smirk just the tiniest bit.

"You're definitely your sister."

She grows quiet, sipping delicately from her own water glass as she sits next to him.

"How did you know her?"

"It's a long story, Ava. Maybe too long to -"

"I got time. And since you've come all the way out here, did all that stuff you said just to find me, I think you have time too."

He has no argument for that. So he tells her. He explains their entire history. Including the worst bits. Eventually it ends when he gets to the worst of the worst bits.

"And...?" she prompts impatiently.

"And... I'm sorry Ava. But your sister - she, um - she died. Brittany too."

Ava doesn't scream. She doesn't yell or rage or even let a single tear crawl down her cheek. She simply remains stoic, staring off into the distance.

"Great. So you came all this way to tell me that my sister is dead. Is that it, then? I have homework."

And as she makes to stand, he places his hand on her wrist, which she yanks away with a stern ferocity. He sees the tears pooling in her dark eyes, but her expression is otherwise impassive.

"That's part of it. But not all of it. I wanted to tell you about her. But I also wanted to give you something."

She maintains her wary gaze, the tears refusing to fall as she allows herself to sit back down.

"Do you trust your Aunt. I mean really trust her?"

"With my life. She was the only one who actually wanted to keep me."

"You're sure Ava? Because what I'm gonna give you, I have to know that she'll never try anything, or take legal action to take it or -"

"Jesus! I'm fifteen dude. Not five. Yes. I trust her. Okay?"

"Okay. But you have to know what this means. It isn't just the face value. It came at a high price. Your sisters life being one. Just - I need you to know, that your sister... She saved me. She did. I need you to know how amazing, and intelligent, and badass, and loving she was. I need you to know that she used to sing Brittany to sleep pretending that it was you, and that she cried so many nights, wishing you were with her. She never stopped, not for one day thinking about you. She loved you with everything she was, but they took you from her, and left a hole in her heart that only grew bigger when she came across my brother. And I... I wish you got to know her like I did. I need you to know that nobody called me names better, or made me feel so whole with a single look like she could. I need you to know that she hated salsa, and laughed at the irony of it. That she loved to cook as much as she complained about it, and thought reading was for nerds, but always loved to listen in when I'd read to Brittany. That she was a fuckin' fantastic singer, and that she spent her last moments singing a song that she used to sing to you. I need you to know that she would've sacrificed her life just to spend a single day with you. That's how much the people she loved meant to her... how much you meant to her. I need you to know all those things. Okay?"

He had long since lost the battle to will the tears away. And as he met her eyes, he noted that so had Ava, her face wet with clear tracks that left a glossy tint to her brown skin.

"I - I remember her, you know. I remember how she used to always carry me on her back. Tell me jokes. And when I had nightmares, she'd sing for me. I never forgot her. I guess I just assumed... after all this time, that she forgot about me. Didn't care anymore. Hell, I was only five. After I turned six, then seven, then eleven... After the years just kept going, I just figured that I didn't exist to her anymore. So I tried to live my life. And forget her too. But I never really could. Not really."

When she couldn't seem to find any more words, he decided that now was the time to do what he'd came to do.

He opened up the back pack and pulled out the tin. But first, he handed her over the book that he had put together for this occasion.

"They aren't much. We didn't have a lot to choose from, but I wanted you to have something - a way to see her, and maybe get an idea of who she was."

It was a photo album comprised of several pages of photos of Santana. Some of Brittany, and Kurt, and Seb himself. It was the last months of San's life basically laid out in photo form.

As she looked over the pictures in awed fascination, letting her thin fingers trail over her sister's smile, Sebastian pulled open the tin and held it out for her to see its contents.

Ava nearly dropped the photo album at the sight, gasping audibly and struggling to find the words.

When she just couldn't seem to find them, her piercing scream was apparently enough to express her feelings.

"T-t-that's... No way! Fuck! Are you - that's like, not monopoly money right? You're not fuckin' with me?"

"No. It ain't monopoly money. It's yours. All two hundred and seventy thousand of it."

It took her more than five minutes to officially calm down enough to actually listen to the rest of Seb's carefully thought out stipulations. He was holding her hands to keep her from jumping around.

"Ava. I know you're excited -"

"Hell yeah! This is gonna change my life. I mean, everything. My Aunt can finally get a house. We can get out of this neighborhood -"

"Yeah. But here's the deal. I don't care what you decide to do with the rest of it. But one hundred thousand of it is going toward your education. No if's, and's, or buts. You use that portion of the money for college or you don't get a dime. Understood?"

"You really want me to go to school?" She asks seriously, a hint of adoration buried beneath the inquiry.

"Yeah. Because that's what San would want for you too. She couldn't be here for you. But I can now. So I want you to get an education and set yourself up for the long haul and a good life. And I want to be a part of that. If you'll let me."

She was quiet for the first time since he'd disclosed the information about the inheritance so to speak. Then suddenly, she leaned over and hugged him tightly, and for a moment, he felt like he was hugging Santana again. For the briefest second, San was forgiving him. And Seb was doing his self designated sister proud.

When she pulls away, she whispers, "I'd like that. A lot."

"Good. And I want regular progress reports. Copies of your grades. All of that. For every single semester. Deal?"

"Deal," she concedes with that same bright smile that had earlier only been reserved for her friends.

"Good. So what do you wanna be when you grow up?"

Ava rolls her eyes but her luminous smile demonstrates her clear amusement.

"I've always wanted to help people. People in the system you know. Especially kids who get thrown in foster care. The ones who don't have rights or anyone to represent the things they want. Like a lawyer... or something like that," she admits timidly.

Sebastian claps her shoulder. "Sounds perfect. Now we just have to convince your Aunt that I'm not bat shit crazy, and you'll be on your way kid."

* * *

**A/N**: So... holy sheep shit! I know I've commented on the length of my chap's before but this one by far takes the cake. Hands down, the longest one I've ever written in any story thus far. I thought about trying to actually go through and find the passages from the bible and have Seb explain in more detail which passages he's put together to decode Simon's hidden Bible message. But then I thought... mmmm... I just don't feel like it, lol. I honestly got lazy and I knew that would've held up this chap for even longer so I opted to steer clear of that idea. So remember how I said the end was near? Well this is pretty much it my friends. Next chap is the conclusion. It's going to be an Epilogue. As always, please review and give me your thoughts. I'm super curious about your response to this one being it had quite a bit happening including... what? Santana's sister? Crazy. Give me your thoughts my dears. And I'll see you on the next one.


	30. Chapter 30

**Epilogue**

So many befores...

Before he had been taken.

Before he had started being sold.

Before he had reconnected with his mother.

Before he had met Kurt.

Each before building onto the next, building toward an unexpected slice of better; an intricate web that at any point could've broken, or trailed off into a disconnected path bearing nothing but emptiness...

But still, somehow, miraculously, it had all led him to here.

It doesn't change the fact that the possibilities, the 'what if's' feel almost palpable.

The thought if he had decided to abandon his instinctual pretenses and not have called the number of that naive, slightly aggravating kid he'd met at that gay shit hole after getting his ass handed to him by those festering addicts...

The thought if he had turned that same kid away and never looked back when Simon had first laid eyes on the beautiful teen; making excuses and shunning him until the boy took the hint and eventually stopped calling altogether...

The thought if he had never turned up that night, knocking on his window with the desparate promise of leaving behind his life's occupation; his very livelihood for some unknown horizon...

It's wild really. Thinking upon it and reflecting - the key word being_ reflecting_, not dwelling; he understands the difference now - about how fortunate each turn, each choice had been in the end; how it had all eventually unfolded into his current present.

He didn't believe in much. That much was still true. But before...

There was no real reason to... was there? Nothing ever felt worth wishing for when the the trail leading onward, the idea of some worthwhile future was so bleak.

But he knows now. He knows what it's like to believe in something beyond simple survival.

He nearly snorts at how cliche and downright fucking corny the notion is... Well, the conviction - because that's what it is now; too consuming and profound to be labeled as a basic notion...

Love.

And though he's still a bit of a realist with a healthy predisposition for scepticism - fuck, does he sure believe in that word.

Sometimes he can't help but think of the other 'what if's' during his moments of introspection...

But again, he doesn't spend as much time dwelling on those. He'd done enough of that the first few years; the pain gradually dulling into something less acute, less overwhelming and self-depracating when he'd think of them - his girls... time slowly proceeding past the once crumpling pain.

It still hurts, but less so. No longer to the point where he'd need hours, sometimes days to recall just what he had left for himself in this life, so the loss wouldn't swallow him completely.

This is familiar, his lips caressing the cool glass as the amber liquid drifts over his taste buds, searing them in its wake.

He smacks his lips, blowing out the heat stemming from the alcohol as he exhales pleasurably. A cognac, to pilfer his nerves which still seem to be on edge even after having done this various times before in the past.

He then thinks of the most important before of all...

The fateful day when a certain brunette had sat at the bar several stools over, stewing with indignation and playful retorts that had intrigued Sebastian - the twinkish whore - into pushing past his norms... prompting a strange urge to do more than just fuck the oddly gorgeous creature into the floor.

"First time?"

He perks up, his eyes trailing over the obviously well practiced grin being showcased for him. The guy was clearly middle aged and had a pretty ridiculous mustache. Seriously - what is with guys over thirty five and their obnoxious facial hair? Sure he himself had gotten lazy and decided to grow his facial hair out a bit, but it was a very manageable mustache, goatee combo, neat even.

He immediately thinks of Tommy. He was happy that he hadn't lost touch with the old bastard, making a point to make a Scandal's pit stop at least once every few months. Some part of him would always be tied to the damn place, what with his history there; the bar ironically serving as the pinnacle for the beginning of desiring more for himself.

"Nah. Cognac's sort of my 'go to' drink."

The smile spreads thickly, causing the dude's dark mustache to shift.

"I mean flying. First timer?"

"Oh. Right. No, actually."

"Hm. Could've fooled me."

"Do I look that nervous?"

"This is your second drink. I usually wager that number two of any drink straight becomes more of a 'have to,' than a random means to unwind before a flight."

Seb chuckles thoughtfully.

"Oh it's definitely that. My liquid lifeline. For some reason it never seems to get easier - the whole flying thing. But in my mind this helps."

The bartender nods sympathetically, his eyes coursing over the bartop as he wipes it over with a rag. Seb takes his time to gaze at the name tag adorning the dark vest.

"So Jack?"

"Sir?"

"Sebastian."

"Of course. Sebastian, what can I do for you?"

"Is is this like a side hustle, or a long standing career - working as an airport bartender?"

Jack is now rinsing out a nearby glass, focusing on relinquishing the beads of water with a fresh dish towel.

"I suppose a bit of both. I'm getting too old to go swapping occupations, but I'm also too old to call this a hustle. It's just a job in the end, don't think of it much beyond that."

"Why not?"

"No reason to. I've got a wife and two grown sons. I served my country in the united states marine corps. I got a bit of a pension saved and I own my house. Not much but it's mine. I'm happy with that - and this gig keeps me grounded, brings in enough for me to get by, and I also get the pleasure of meeting all kinds of interesting folks."

Sebastian, blinks at the man, then takes a lingering sip from his drink.

"How did you know? With your wife I mean? That she was the one."

Jack's eyes narrow slightly, but not in a show of projected intimidation; more akin to curiousity at this young stranger's boldness. He apparently had decided to at least humor Sebastian.

"Oh I didn't. Not at first. It happened gradually. But when it hit, it was undeniable. Couldn't stand the thought of being without her. Like all the colors in the world would melt away if she wasn't in it."

Sebastian grows silent, his mouth crimping into an understanding smirk.

"Yeah. I get that."

"What you got woman troubles or something? Flying to go see your sweetheart?"

"Not exactly. I just... I was thinking of things, going over my life, you know? So much has happened in the last few years. So much has changed.. It's like I'm looking back on some stranger's life instead of mine or something."

"Ah, I see."

"You see what?"

"You had the epiphany."

"Sorry?"

"The epiphany. The _one_. Takes time to get there, but when it happens, there's no looking back."

"Sorry, you had me at epiphany."

"You've figured out what your true meaning is. You've found it, and are embracing the possibilities that come with it."

Sebastian's expression is clouded by uncertainty, his eyebrows ascending toward his hairline.

"Being in love," Jack spells out with a keen grin after noting Seb's transparent confusion.

Seb gulps down a quick mouthful, then answers, "I've been in love. I mean, not that I knew that at first. But I've known that for a while already."

"Young man, it's one thing to be in love. People fall in and out of love all the time. But it's something else entirely to actually embrace it. To get past the whole selflessness, I'd do anything for you crap, and have something left that's mature and substantial. To truly leave the other shit behind, stop second guessing, and live for that love. _That_ epiphany."

Sebastian nearly chokes on his drink, Jack casting him a cautious glance and quickly sliding a glass of water over to him while Seb sputters through a coughing fit. His eyes are watering as he gulps down the clear liquid fervently.

"T-thanks," he gasps, eyes still moist as he settles himself down and puts the empty water glass on the bartop.

"Welcome. Sorry, I can be both melodramatic and straightfoward. Not the best combo if you aren't ready for it. But you get it, don't you?"

"Yeah. I think I do actually."

"So, you gonna tell me? I did keep you from choking to death."

"Tell you what?"

"Why you're having to drink yourself into a stupor of deluded bravery to hop on a plane? Visiting your girl?"

Sebastian can't help but smirk, following Jack's pointed stare at the white-gold band settled on Seb's left ring finger as if that countered any attempt at denial. To his credit, the older man didn't comment, just waited.

"I'm visiting my little sister actually. She's graduating from high school so I'm flying out. Big brother duty, being supportive and all."

"Hm. Well that's great. Congrats to her and to you. Sure you're proud."

"Very. I have a pic of her if you'd like to see. Here," and Seb hands over his phone after scrolling through his photos and selecting the most recent of the younger Latina.

Jack takes the phone and looks over the pic thoughtfully.

"She's definitely a looker. Doesn't look much like you, though."

"We're not blood related. Kind of a long story," Seb shrugs.

Jack hands the phone back over, then leans forward.

"Papa was a rolling stone, huh?" Jack buzzes, a lack of tact imbibed in the words.

"You really like to pry don't you?"

"Keeps the job interesting. Humor me."

Sebastian finds it easy to smile at that for some reason. And for some other reason, he finds himself talking.

"I didn't have a dad. Well - I did. But he - um - let's just say I never knew him. I got involved with the wrong guy, grew up selling my body for the dude, and that's where I met her."

"Your current girlfriend?"

"No. The best friend I've ever had. It was her older sister - I mean my little sis' biological sister. We sort of grew up together, under the same man, you know. Long story short, I lost them both. She was murdered, and he - the guy - killed himself."

"Jesus. Sorry man."

"He wasn't the murderer - not outright. But he may as well have been. Anyway in the end that's how I came across finding her little sister. They'd been separated years ago but I got in contact with her not long after my friend died. We've been close ever since."

"Well damn. I've heard a lot of stories over the years kid. But yours, excuse me for the bluntness, but yours is pretty messed up."

"So I've heard."

"Look I don't wanna bring up old wounds or nothing. At least, not anymore than you've already shared. But was she - you know, your friend - was she - _is_ she the one?"

Sebastian feels the tears prick at his eyes; his smile thinning, but still warm.

"She was my soulmate in her own way. But not my heart. Somebody else has that."

Jack seems momentarily stunned into silence, his own eyes suspiciously bright under the dim lighting. Suddenly Seb catches the man looking at a spot just past him, resulting in Seb unconsciously doing the same.

Sebastian smiles thickly, beaming up at the man walking toward him.

"And always will," he breathes, before standing and pulling the approaching brunette into his arms, kissing him deeply.

When they pull apart, Kurt giggles breathlessly, arms still slung over Seb's shoulders.

"Hey. What was that about? I mean - not that I'm one to complain of course. But miss me much?" Kurt teased.

"Every second."

Kurt stills, immediately noticing the brightness of the green orbs, and the fragility of the tone.

"Are you sure you're alright? You didn't have too many did you?"

"No. I had just enough. So they're boarding already?"

"In about fifteen minutes. That's why I figured it was best to come dig you up before you ended up getting completely plastered like the the last time. Ready to go?"

"Always have to bring that up. One time. The _one_ time I may have overdid it -"

"May have? If that's not the worst understatment ever spoken, like - ever. I had to convince the flight staff that you were drugged up on prescription meds so that we could even fly. Remember that? Oh - wait, you probably don't. Not to mention you busting out random show tunes - that God knows how you even managed to know the lyrics to since you literally plug your ears when I try to get you to watch any muscials - and Disney medley's during the flight. And then on top of that, having to practically carry you into the bathroom where you pretty much groped the hell outta me, and then having to deal with you insisting that we - um - become inducted into the 'mile high club,'" Kurt finished with a flourish and highly intimidating glare.

Sebastian only seemed to be aware of Kurt's close proximity, his perfect lips, and the blush coloring his neck and chasing across his skin; particularly after that mile high club remark.

He presses his lips firmly against Kurt's, silencing the potential protest with an attentive kiss; Kurt's retort rapidly dissolving into a moan.

As he pulls away, Sebastian looks over at Jack and makes a move to dig inside his back pocket for his wallet.

Jack raises a hand, gesturing for Seb to refrain from doing so.

"On the house, kid."

"Nah, I couldn't ask you to -"

"Who said anybody was asking? No charge. Enjoy your flight."

Sebastian grins, his arm slung over his partner's shoulders possessively, the lithe brunette figure apparently struggling with being a bit dazed after their embrace.

"Thanks, Jack."

"No. Thank you. That little girl's lucky to have you in her corner. And despite you not being able to handle your liquor, so's your fellow, there."

Normally Kurt would've found the resolve to argue the point further, but in all honesty, he knew that the bartender, apparently called Jack, was absolutely correct. Kurt smiles his thanks and allows Seb to lead him out of the airport bar, glued to the hip and thoroughly blissed out. All things considered, Kurt was in fact the luckiest man on the planet as far as he was concerned.

Jack found himself whistling contentedly when the couple had retreated. Not that he wasn't used to seeing same sex couples pretty much daily, but once he had witnessed this particular pair's connection, both hands adorning a similar ring, he'd known that he had been absolutely correct in his assumption. They were living the epiphany.

"Good for them. Good for them," he whispers aloud, an empathetic gleam in his eye as the two disappeared from sight.

* * *

"Are you gonna keep texting or are you actually gonna grace us with your presence while we're here to see _you_?" Sebastian comments with a teasing smirk.

They had just ordered and were waiting for their food. The restaurant was normally a pretty popular place, made even more so by the fact that many of the locals were out celebrating their child's graduation as well - just as they were. Seb couldn't wait for the ceremony to come to an end; the metal bleachers were seriously scalding his ass, as some administrative genius decided that the ceremony should take place at the high school's football field - during a particularly blazing summer afternoon, at that. Not to mention the overly drawn out speeches from both faculty and students about life and finding your dreams, and whatever cock and bull fantasy land shit they decided to impart. Needless to say, he was grateful it was finished and were now in a position to finally eat something. He was starved and kind of light headed.

Ava looks up, a hint of guilt betraying her features as she attempts to feign innocence at said behavior.

"What? It's just a couple of friends. They're trying to see what I'm doing afterward. It is my graduation day after all," she adds placatingly.

"Give her a break babe. She's right. You do only get this night once," Kurt chimes in.

"Exactly. Thank you, Kurt. I'm glad somebody gets it."

Maurine, Ava's caregiver and by all intents and purposes, her surrogate mother - Ava eventually learning to withdraw the Aunt label in exchange for the Mom label - fixes her with a stern glare.

"Girl if you don't put that phone away..."

"Yes ma'am," Ava surrenders without skipping a beat, briskly slipping the phone into her clutch purse underneath the table.

"Ooh, I can't wait till I have that."

"Have what?" Seb questions.

"The 'mother look'. You know, the one that eats at your insides and makes you give in for fear of some far off, unexpected pain to come. I want to be able to master that. I'll be happy to become your understudy Maurine."

Kurt holds up his hand and she slaps him a high five which has Sebastian chuckling, and Ava rolling her eyes.

Something about Maurine can come across cold at first, perhaps her dryness and general quiescence. But after getting to know her over their collective visits, phone calls, and Skype sessions, they've come to understand her mannerisms and see that beneath the initial coolness, she's the biggest sweetheart there is, with a wicked sense of humor that was often masked to those who didn't know her well. She was sort of like an older, and if possible, bustier version of Mercedes Jones.

She tended to be the figure who would often condone and even instigate inappropriate commentary within their conversations, cackling loudly at the others incredulous expressions after having made some off the wall comment. Though to her credit, she kept it strictly parental while around Ava... most of the time.

"Mother look? Seriously? What're you thinking of getting knocked up or something Kurt?" Ava challenges, happy to see it cause the other man to squirm in his seat. Damn, the girl was her sister through and through sometimes, not just in looks.

"I - wha - no, I just - oh, hush you!" Kurt huffs indignantly and throws a napkin across the table at her for good measure. Ava bursts into a state, laughing heartily at Kurt's embarrassment.

Sebastian can't help but blink incredulously at this admission. Hm. Kurt actually seemed bashful, flustered even. Interesting...

"I don't think you'll need any training for that Princess. You've already got a pretty mean bitc - I mean - um - ice glare. Always feels like you can literally peel the flesh off my bones when you stare at me with it."

"Thanks, hon. I do get a lot of practice using it on you."

Suddenly Ava stops her chuckling, quickly sobering as she asks, "wait - are you, you know - thinking about kids? Having them - I mean, like adopting or whatever?"

Sebastian defers to Kurt, who blushes more distinctly. Seb frankly wanted to know too.

"No. Not - not really. Not now at least. But you know, maybe. Sometime in the future."

The table grows quiet; a moment of silent contemplation engrossing the foursome sitting at the dining table; the chatter and general din associated with a busy restaurant becoming more audible.

"You both would be wonderful daddies. Any child would be blessed to have you," Maurine states sincerely, a full minute after the awkward pause.

"Yeah. I concur. A kid with beautiful baby blues, impeccable fashion sense... and, whatever it is that Sebastian has to offer," Ava quips.

"Duh. My astonishing intellect and wit."

"And your ass," Kurt casually remarks.

Ava screws her face up in a look mixed with both disgust and amusement.

"Now I definitely second that one," Maurine adds.

Sebastian feels his face heat up, as both Kurt and Maurine burst out laughing, Ava following suit at her brother's growing discomfort.

"Okay, first off, we've only been engaged for like three months. Let's enjoy being selfish for a bit before we decide to take other life forms under our flashy rainbow wing. Second, this one over here _is_ like having a giant toddler, an infant who comes fully equipped with a sailor's dirty mouth -"

"Hey!" Ava blusters, Seb completely ignoring her outburst as he continues.

"The best of both worlds in my book, so no need to neglect her in favor of having our own. Least not for a while. Thirdly..."

Kurt was starting to appear put out, breaking eye contact in favor of looking at the table, gnawing his bottom in that way that always made Seb re-evaluate whatever sputum was escaping his mouth.

Seb reaches across the table, and places his hand over Princess' own, prompting Kurt to meet his eye again. Sometimes he just can't help but goade the kid, even after all this time. But now, he just wants to spare him.

"Thirdly," he repeats with a renewed air of seriousness, "I would do anything for you. Walk on hot coals. Eat hot coals. Hell, put my penis in hot coals -"

"Okay, masochist, we _are_ attempting to eat," Ava states sarcastically, Seb once again maintaining Kurt's gaze and ignoring her soundly.

"But I would especially, and most proudly be happy to have a baby with you. And buy him or her a baby blanket that's charcoal black."

Kurt giggles at Sebastian's characteristic lunacy. Maurine is watching the couple with a knowing twinkle in her dark eyes.

"So we can commemorate this conversation, and to let you know that I was - as I tend to enjoy doing - just giving you a hard time before. I'm honestly ready whenever you are, babe. Tomorrow, a week, a year, ten years. Hell we could push a stroller down the aisle when we officially get hitched for all I care. Basically, and I can't believe I'm doing this, but to quote none other than Finn Hudson, 'if you like it, then I love it'."

Kurt is blinking back tears, and then looks across the table at Ava. They seem to communicate something without words.

"Trust me when I say I'm not in any hurry. It's just a thought. A very far off thought. I think I've just been watching too many reruns of Teen Mom lately. But yeah - I would like that... one day."

The four carried on from there, discussing Ava's upcoming plan to move into the dorms at UCLA and debating on whether her strong sense of ambition was naturally inherited from her sister or influenced more recently by Sebastian. They ate, and joked, and reminisced.

Eventually Maurine announced her readiness to call it a night; she would be working early the next morning and was already functioning on compromised sleep in order to be able to attend Ava's graduation on time. Ava had returned to glancing at her phone every other second to solidify potential plans for an after party tonight.

Despite them having moved into their own home over a year before due to Seb's donation, Maurine still insisted on working as much as possible, including overtime hours when the opportunity arose. She refused to ever look at the money left over from Ava's inheritance as belonging to herself as legal guardian, or even as their joint finances. It was all for Ava's future, and she would be damned if she ever attempted to use it for her own gain. Having the house was more than she could've ever wished for. Not to mention the introduction and continued social support of the two men who'd become like family to both Ava, and herself if she was being honest.

Maurine bid them all good night and promised to meet up with them tomorrow for dinner as earlier determined, making sure to leave Ava with a warning to be home no later than one, one thirty a.m., tops.

Ava stood from the table to kiss her mom's cheek, thanking her profusely as the other woman guffawed, mumbling, "yeah, yeah, yeah. Just get home in one piece. And don't you dare get in anyone's car who's been drinking. If I get even an inkling that you're out there doing too much, I will track you down and embarrass the hell outta you. Bust all up in the party, maybe have a dance - something like I don't know, the butterfly or the electric slide, make sure everybody knows that I'm _your_ mama, then leave with you in tote. We understand each other?"

Ava swallows audibly, then mutters, "Yes ma'am. Promise."

"Alright then. Gentleman, I'll be seeing you tomorrow."

"She's good," Seb relays in a hushed tone to Kurt as they both wave.

"The best. I'm telling you - _understudy_. We got to get in on it. That woman's the master."

Fifteen minutes later found Sebastian outside the restaurant taking in some air... sort of, anyway.

"Thought you quit?"

He holds up the plastic cigarette as if in answer.

"Electric. It's just flavored vapor. Not as bad."

"And Kurt knows?"

"Yep. But I try not to do it too often. Just indulge every now and again."

Ava joins him at the building's edge, leaning against the wall and staring out past the parking lot at nothing in particular. They both remain silent, thoughts swirling within their own private musings.

"You should do it you know. Adopt."

"I take it you and Kurt have talked about this subject matter before tonight."

She doesn't respond.

"Right," he concludes as if confirming his own suspicion.

"You know it's weird. If we would've brought up kids a few months ago even, I would've went running. The idea of me ever actually being someone's father... scared the shit out of me. Still does honestly. There's still a lot of things we're figuring out."

"Like?" She prompts.

"School. Being engaged. Where we're gonna be living -"

"I thought you settled on New York because of Kurt getting that internship with the fashion magazine? Not to mention him being re-accepted to Tisch."

"Yeah well... Both of us have been talking. And neither of us really like the idea of riding the subway everywhere. Not to mention everything apparently smellin' like stale piss. And I loathe snow. Like if I could wave a magic wand and make it disappear from mother nature's repertoire, I would without hesitation. Seriously - fuck Frosty."

Ava laughs, but then quickly recovers. "So what - you're staying in Lima?"

"Not exactly. We kind of thought somewhere with an actual sun would be nice. Like L.A. for example."

"W-what? Are you serious?"

Seb smiles warmly. "As a heart attack- shit! Forgot, Princess hate's that saying. But yeah, I can't think of any other clever little quote to convey the seriousness at the moment, but yes. I'm serious."

"You're gonna be living in L.A.? Like actually living here? Not having to come visit every other month and leave after a few days? You'll be residing in California?"

"I thought we established this already."

Ava squeals and throws her arms around Seb.

"Whoa! Whoa! Easy there woman."

She suddenly pulls away with wide eyes.

"Wait, you're not doing this for me right? I don't want you to move just because of me. I - I can't deal with Kurt or you giving up all those things for me."

"Okay selfish. Why does it have to be about you? I already explained, I like experiencing the sun. Plus Kurt applied to the Fashion Institute based out of L.A. and was accepted. And this is the capital for all things related to celebrity and fashion. He'll find something else before we know it."

"And you? What about school? The garage?"

"I'm gonna finish out here. I have a few options. One of the Cal-State's probably. But I'm only a few semesters into my undergrad for education. I've got plenty of time. Not to mention mechanics being a dime a dozen out here. I can probably walk down the street and find a place that'll take me on. Plus you know Mercedes is out here so we'll have some other sassy black company outside of your mom, and the entire gay brotherhood of twinks scowering the streets of west hollywood. We'll be good."

Ava's eyes were sparkling, but she stepped back after her outburst, a devious smirk remaining firmly planted as she leaned back against the building.

"You're definitely not the dick you pretend to be," Ava states quietly.

"And you're definitely not the dick you pretend to have."

Both of them smile broadly.

"And - well, I guess a little of our choice might have to do with this really selfish Latina girl who uses coarse language, and likes to post pictures of animals on her facebook page and say that they look like people, namely her innocent older brother... who burps like a grown man, and slap boxes people unexpectedly as a form of entertainment..."

Ava snorts at this exclamation, but the brightness of her eyes betrays the attempt to wash over the emotion. Seb exhales, and then presses on.

"A _woman_, who knows what she wants and isn't afraid to go after it. Who is protective of her friends and family, and is one of the smartest, most intellectually capable people I've ever known."

She's staring at him now, a few tears gliding over her brown cheek, a noticeable tremble to her smile.

"So... Fuck Frosty," She intones.

"Fuck Frosty," He repeats.

A car pulls up at that moment, music blaring and crawling with a gaggle of excited, teenaged girls. The passenger side window rolls down and one of the most boisterous of the bunch calls out, "Hey Ava! Let's go already! C'mon!"

Ava wipes at her eyes and seems to hesitate. It was then that Sebastian felt the need overwhelm him; the urge born from needing to further communicate his commitment to being her family - to make certain that she understood.

"Wait up, Ava!"

She turns after having taken a few steps. Seb approaches her, and reaches around his own neck, unclasping the necklace that had served as his own symbolism of family - of belonging, for the last few years.

He gestures for her to pick up her long hair so he can fasten it properly, and makes swift work of clicking it into place.

"It's yours now. Take care of it. Like it took care of me."

Ava holds the small Taurus symbol in between her forefinger and thumb, examining it with care. She recalls the tale behind the worn charm. How it had come to be in Seb's possession, and what it had come to mean to him over the years. She's broken out of her spell and sense of awe by the sounds of the car horn blasting and impatient shouting from the rowdy group.

"Thank you," she whispers.

"You're my sister. Always. Now go have fun, kid," he says simply as if that's all the explanation required. She beams at him, and then takes off toward the small sedan, jumping into the crowded back seat.

There were no 'I love you's' or 'I'll always be there for you's' thrown around. It hadn't been necessary. Ava knew, the moment that she felt the trinket between her fingertips, that Sebastian would always be her brother - that he and Kurt were undeniably her family, and that twinge of sadness at never being able to get to know her sister past the first five years of her life, would always feel less piercing because she had gained them, and would have them for the rest of her years.

She watches him, standing stoicly and smiling with that stupid crooked grin that she always associated with him, raising his hand in a casual wave as the car pulls away.

She doesn't feel the slightest hint of embarassment when she waves back. Seb doesn't re-enter the restaurant until she's completely out of his sight.

* * *

Sebastian is thinking with his dick of course.

When he steps out of the shower, he knows that he wants to take advantage of having this hotel room. Feels the familiar desire pooling in his belly, slowly easing itself into his nether regions and begin to fill his cock.

The steam sifts from the opened door as he steps out of the bathroom, wearing only a towel low on his hips.

He wants Kurt. Badly. But the sound of someone else's voice, a familiar one at that, causes him pause. He quietly makes his way over to the corner, leaning against the wall and crossing his arms over his bare chest as he observes the source of the noise.

Kurt is hunched over his laptop on the bed, the wide screen encompassing a very well-known square face and caramel colored orbs, alight and warm in a way Sebastian had once feared he never would've been able to see.

Dave Karofsky.

He had lost a few pounds over the course of their long distanced friendship. His cheeks less full and more hollowed, chiseled if you were being overly optimistic.

Dave for lack of a better way to phrase it, had made it - just as he said he would. He had left Lima with a football scholarship and never looked back. Except for the occasional family gathering and holiday retreat, he made his old hometown a distant memory.

He was soon to graduate from the University of Illinois, and had bagged an internship working with a small sports agency based out of Chicago. Sebastian couldn't help but eyeball the screen with a little pride, knowing that all of this could've been lost with one small impulse to play God, from Simon; one quick decision to take Dave away.

Seb shakes his head, because he wouldn't dwell, especially since Dave himself had sworn that he never would.

_"So I'm here trying not to freeze my balls off," _Dave was saying._ "Carey keeps turning the damn thermostat down complaining about me using too much heat. And your Uncle Dave sort of needs his balls -"_

_"I heard that!" _a voice calls in the background, causing Dave to wince slightly, then chuckle.

_"Sorry, babe!" _He calls back._ "Anyway, when Kurt, also known as Fancy, told me that they were putting together a video for you, I of course wanted dibs on the first spot. Because of course - I'm awesome. But in all seriousness, because I wanted to let you know Ava, or rather acknowledge, how hard high school life can be. And just how important what you accomplished really is. I used to think I'd never make it - I don't mean like, out of Lima kind of make it. I mean, there were times that I didn't think I was good enough to even exist. That I was some kind of enigma, doomed to be lost and live my life as a lie. But the hard parts, the loneliest parts - they got better. Mostly when I met Fancy, but even more so when I met that idiot Sebastian."_

Sebastian has to stifle a chuckle, knowing Cubby had meant the backhanded compliment to be endearing. Kurt however laughs aloud.

_"Truth is, they both gave me the courage to face... well, a lot of messed up stuff, and decide to keep fighting. Because I had something to fight for... my life... the life beyond high school."_

Seb knows that he isn't the only one who immediately flashes to Dave's kidnapping and near death experience. He shakes his head and refocuses and Dave's face.

_"That's where you are now, the life beyond high school. It's pretty sweet when you remember to acknowledge and hold onto the sweet parts. Anyway this shit turned into an afterschool special didn't it? Sorry about that. So, congratulations and I wish you all the best. And yes, I still want you to refer to me as Uncle Dave despite me only being five years older than you. Makes me feel like more of a Bear, which kinda turns Carey on," _he finishes with a conspiratorial whisper into the camera.

_"Dave! Can you not be grossly sexual and perverted - this is for her graduation for God sakes!"_

A wiry blonde man enters the screen, shooting Dave a seething look which causes the larger man to duck his head with a moderately sheepish expression. Carey turns toward the camera, immediately flashing a warm smile to cover up the outburst directed at his boyfriend.

_"Your Uncle Davey is an ass. Ava, please aspire to be like someone else as his influence is, if anything, questionable. And also congratulations sweetheart, we're looking forward to your visit in the next few months. Love you!"_

_"Love you Ava!"_ Dave calls out before the screen goes black, and another face suddenly flashes onto the screen.

_"Is it set up alright? Yeah? Cool. Hey Ava. It's Finn. You know, Hudson."_

Sebastian nearly rolls his eyes at Finn's imbecility.

Finn was dressed in his army uniform, obviously having taken time at the base to send the message. He was clean shaven, and his hair buzzed into near nonexistence. Sometimes Sebastian weirdly found himself missing that stupid looking shark fin thing that he had going on with his hair when they first met. But the dude was admittedly handsome, striking these days, with his fuller build and his ability to carry himself with an air of authority and command like only the military could teach. It was pretty easy to see that Finn had really found his calling in the military, and would likely go career. He had been stationed at a base out of South Carolina for the past six months, and had been on tour over seas for over a year before that.

_"So I couldn't make it obviously. We're supposed to be shipping back out in the next week. But don't worry - it's not an official combat zone, just gathering intel and checking up on the town's water systems and what not. Harmless, but still needs to be done. Rachel sends you her love of course. She's been doing two a day rehearsals in New York so she hasn't had time for much other than sleep, oh - and complaining to me about not getting any sleep. But not in a bitchy way - just like - yeah, kind of in a bitchy way. But I'm excited for when I get back, cause I'm planning to check in with you first hand and getting back hopefully in time to watch her perform in that show she's killing herself over. Maybe I can convince you to come out and see it with me. I can send you a ticket. I know you have your summer break and everything so maybe we can set a date."_

Seb smiles to himself as recalls the time he and Finn had conversed about the idea of what it would be like attempting to maintain a long distance relationship. How hopeless and doubtful Finn had first been, until he finally realized that it was worth trying for; that his love for Rachel could surpass the obstacles of having to love each other from afar. It seemed that they had figured it out for now as they were still going strong. Kurt had even hinted that Finn was planning to officially propose after his next mission - only having refused earlier due to the looming possibility of being killed in action, or Rachel perhaps falling for some actor-type while she had been in school. Apparently they both represented storms that each other still wanted to weather and Sebastian was purely happy for them both.

_ "Well anyway, I just wanted to make sure to say congrats and to keep making us proud. I'll see ya!"_

And then the screen goes black again. This time, the camera zooms in on a darker skinned figure, with a round face and equally plump lips.

_"Hey sweetie. I know - I know, don't kill me. I wasn't able to be there for the ceremony since I was out of town for that gig but when Kurt told me about this idea I jumped at the chance despite the potential sappiness of it all. You've learned to know me a bit this last year or so, and in all honesty, I've never been a woman with the most eloquent way with words. So here goes..."_

**_Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound,_** **_That saved a wretch like me..._**

**_I once was lost but now am found,_** **_Was blind, but now, I see._**

And Seb felt his breath hitch in his throat, as Mercedes reprised her rendition of Amazing Grace, eyes closed and voice as melodious and perfect as ever in its effortlessness. It was no wonder that the girl had found her niche singing background vocals as a signed recording artist. Sebastian could see her taking it further, maybe doing a solo project sometime soon. Mercedes however insisted that the passion for stardom was no longer an obsession, that she actually enjoyed the thought of nurturing others talents and had kicked around the idea of taking on being a singing coach full time.

He overheard Kurt sniffling, and had to quell the urge to rush to him, for some reason feeling an even stronger impulse to stay back and remain unannounced. Seb renewed his gaze, surveying Mercedes' eyes flutter open as the song came to an end, and a single tear escape over her full cheek. She wipes hastily at the tear track.

_"Ooh, damn. Sorry, that song just - it gets me. Mostly because of what it really means. I wanted - no I _needed_ to sing it to you, 'cause that song _is_ your sister. I know you have memories of her singing it to you, and I was hoping to let you know that, just because she's gone doesn't mean the meaning should be. She's just as proud and just as much with us in our hearts. Her and Brittany of course. Always. So... I owe you a latte when I get back in town and we can go hunting for some men's, okay girl? But don't tell your brother. His ass'll probably get all clingy and threatening and that's just not a good look. Love you baby girl and I'm so, so proud of you. See you soon!"_

A quick transition and then two new faces appear within the confines of the screen; one sporting a faded baseball cap, and the other boasting chocolate eyes and a kind smile.

_"Hey Ava! Oh and I guess I should say Kurt, and by natural extension of course, Sebastian,"_ greets Burt Hummel.

_"We - as in Carole and I wanted to firstly congratulate you on your success of getting the hell out of high school."_

_"Burt!"_ Carole admonishes with a quick smack on the shoulder.

_"Right, right. Sorry. But you know what I mean. You did it kiddo! You made it! And we honestly couldn't be more proud. Expect a large bouqet from us if it hasn't already arrived. Just a small token of our happiness and congrats to you over your achievement."_

Carole jumps in here.

_"And we wish we could've been there sweetheart. Burt and his convention meetings tied us up for the week. Who would think that Tire and Car Shops even had those right? But we want you to come visit soon. It's been a long time since we got to see you outside of a computer screen and we're not getting any younger over here."_

Burt interjects, a timid smile formulating.

_"Also, do me a favor kid - would ya? I want you to look out for Sebastian and Kurt when you can. I know that they're both moving on soon enough, leaving Ohio and everything - going to New York or wherever life leads 'em."_

Sebastian and Kurt hadn't finalized their moving plans with their family as of yet. They were all still under the impression that New York was their likely destination; but after careful consideration, they both ended up deciding on the west coast as the better starting place for them. And though he would probably never tell her so, a lot of their choice had indeed been influenced by being closer to Ava. Seb could see himself getting the opportunity to do the one thing that had never been granted him when he was growing up: an education - to get to be a teacher, the one actually giving the education to others. Yeah - he could actually see that for himself. In a sunny place, with fast paced people.

Maybe Seb and Kurt would break the news to Burt and company once they made it back to town.

_ But I want to make sure they have someone else watching their backs. And I know I couldn't ask for anyone better than you. I mean I'm just an old man with little sensitivity and even less sense... But I feel like this is it - all of you guys are growing and finding yourselves, and you're just at the beginning of the best part kid. And you'll always have us, well - we'll always have each other. Long as we take care, and make time, we - meaning you and all of us - will have that. Alright, enough blubbering, we'll see you before summer's out."_

They conclude their video with continued sentiments and heartfelt exclamations of pride and well wishes before the screen again goes black. This time no other segments resurface.

"So you finished it?"

Kurt nearly rolls off the bed in his surprise, wiping at his eyes before repositioning himself into a poised sitting position.

"Holy hell! H-how long have you been there?"

"Long enough to witness Dave literally have his balls seamlessly removed by his boyfriend."

Kurt huffs, readjusting the laptop and rewinding the playback.

"You should've said something."

Sebastian slinks onto the bed, watching Kurt carefully.

"I couldn't find the words I guess. It - um - it looks good. Everybody's level of corniness was perfectly spot on... and pretty admirable."

Kurt smiles while dragging his finger over the editing tool, syncing the final segments together.

"Yeah. I was hoping to have it to her today but I figured we can give it to her after we meet with them tomorrow. A parting gift so to speak."

"She'll love it. It was a good idea."

They both fall silent, Kurt skidding over the buttons while trying to complete the finishing edits and Sebastian simply taking him in.

Finally noticing the silence, Kurt looks over his shoulder at Seb.

"What?"

Sebastian shakes his head, but his grin cocks to the side.

"What is it? You're being weird right now."

"Do you really want to do this. Live here in L.A.? Start a life with me - like _really_ start a life with me, I mean."

Kurt saves his progress and closes the laptop, facing Sebastian with a serious countenance.

"I've told you - multiple times - I'm with you. That's it, and that's all. If you wanted to live in Antarctica or the dark side of the moon, I'm there with bells on. I thought my patented 'pro's and con's list for flying the coop' would've spelled it out enough for you. If not that, perhaps this amazing piece of handcrafted jewelry gracing my finger would be the confirmation," he adds while holding up his hand to show off the thin band representing their engagement.

"Don't tell me that I _still_ need to keep convincing you Sebastian Smythe."

Sebastian hesitates.

"It's just - it's - sometimes - I just think to myself, how this can't be real, you know? After everything. You're still here - still wanna be with me. I was scared, convinced even that eventually you would come to your senses. Even after I gave you that ring. I couldn't help but think of the day that you'd realize that there was something else - not better - because I get that I'm not a bad thing - it's just, that there was something or someone, more fitting - more _you_, I guess."

Kurt traces over Sebastian's features with piercing blue eyes, assessing him.

"Is that what this is really about, meerkat?"

Sebastian swallows, looking at the beige carpeting as if it would show him mercy and open up into a gaping hole so he could disappear. Princess really did know him down to his bare assed soul.

"No," he answers quietly.

Kurt cups Seb's cheek, running his fingertips over the short whiskers making up the light goatee connected over his upper lip and chin. He's waiting patiently for him, the gesture a form of encouragement for Sebastian.

"Do you really think I can be someone's dad?" Seb whispers, a haunted tone swamping the words.

He says it, admits it rather; the real obstacle that had been plaguing him since their earlier dinner. He's past that place of terrible self loathing and self blame, but can't help but wonder if he has undoubtedly inherited traits from _those_ _men; _the destructive characteristics that will inevitably be passed on to a helpless child: the neglect, the cruelty...

He knows that it's completely irrational. But his mind keeps fighting to convince him that maybe, just maybe... it could happen anyway.

Princess lifts Seb's chin, blue eyes burning with unshed tears as he smiles, tentative, and full of warmth.

"You're not your father. Or Simon. You - are - Sebastian William Smythe, who is in love with Kurt Elizabeth Hummel, the resident gay who never knew his ass from his elbow when it came to loving someone else, or caring about more than solos, or watching his calorie intake. Sebastian Smythe who now has a younger sister who just graduated high school to prove to her brother that she could be as great as he believes her to be. Sebastian who has a best friend living in Chicago, as out and proud and happy as he's ever been. Sebastian who has a father figure who wears ridiculously old baseball caps and brags to his colleagues about what his soon to be son in law has come to learn about cars and how he could single handedly run the shop as manager if he wanted, and is married to a woman who loves that same son in law as much as her own doofus of a son, and very fabulous step son. Sebastian who got the chance to meet, love, and stay in close contact with his real mother - who rekindled her very enthusiasm for life. Sebastian... Sebastian who was nearly killed and taken from me... who came back, and fought through darkness to still be able to love me whole-heartedly every - single - day."

Sebastian is looking at Kurt unabashedly, not ashamed of the tears that are falling from his own eyes as he stares into the glistening blue ones.

"You will be the best husband and father because you are no one else, but _you_. Which is what I, and our kid - if we decide to have one someday - will love about you most."

He closes his eyes, feeling the tears sliding over his heated cheeks, wandering through the scruff of hair shadowing his jawline. Kurt pulls him forward, capturing his lips, tasting the saltiness of his emotional release.

Seb responds, the kisses growing more steady, hungry, as he climbs atop Princess, his towel coming loose and falling in a pile on the carpet.

"But for Gaga's sake I'm only twenty-two years young - I'm honestly in no hurry," Kurt breathes between moans.

Sebastian pulls away breaking the kiss, kissing the tip of Princess' nose tenderly, and smiling down at him.

"So what's all this adoption crap about then?"

"Fucking Teen Mom. I told you. It makes you like - hate the idea of kids and then secretly makes you want to have them so you can do better, and out-parent those sad, trashy little girls."

Seb can only laugh, biting his lip at Princess' logic.

"Plus - the more we've gotten closer with Ava, the more I think we can maybe do the same for some other kid. She's told me things about her experiences - how its really given her a lot, once she ended up with Miss Corinthia, then finally Maurine. It just makes it more clear for me that I'd want that someday - to help somebody in that way. And to get to be an honest to God, dad. That's a dream that's just as important to me as making it in fashion."

Sebastian smirks, utterly and completely happy with himself, ecstatic with his relationship, and excited about the possibilities he would fortunately get the opportunity to share with the people he loved and who loved him in return. The epiphany...

"Fucking Teem Mom," he growls playfully.

"Right? Now fuck me like you're a horny teen - minus the cumming too fast part."

"As you wish, Princess. As you wish."

* * *

**A/N:** I know, I know, I cheated you out of a final moment of mindblowing man sex. I didn't quite care for the idea of leaving it on a note of "and then he came on his face - the end," so leaving it there just felt better to me.

And that is all folks! Crazy... I feel like I've been working on this story on and off for forever, foreeever, foreeeever (Sandlot anybody?). This chap took me a long time to finally compose, mostly because my time was limited to near nonexistence this last month and then lastly, I was uncertain of how I wanted this to play out exactly. In the end I'm pretty happy with the result. I think all the loose ends have been tied up, and I think (in one small way or another) I touched on all the main characters lives and what they're up to or at least planning.

For a while I started going, maybe I can have an epilogue of Kurt and Seb getting married, or Seb graduating from college or some shit like that... but in the end, it just felt too sappy and fluffball so I went this route instead. To clarify it's been about two years give or take since Sebastian met with Ava. And over time she's gotten the opportunity to become close with the family. I guess instead of having a baby be the idea of new life (even though the two talk about it a bit in this chap), Ava sort of represents the idea of starting over and coming together.

If there's any questions or something that was unclear, feel free to let me know. But I very much need to tell you all THANK YOU! A thousands times over, thank you! For every favorite, every review, every bit of fanart, and just for taking the time to stick this fic out. I couldn't have asked for better readers and supporters. Please leave me your final thoughts. And if you have any ideas or prompts, or are interested in any future stories please enlighten me. I might be taking a break for a bit since this story was my pet project for so long and I'm kind of exhausted. Please keep in touch if you so desire. Longest. Author's Note. Ever. Lol.. Much love! -Clef


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